


'Sjifc 






Id 








LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


£ 

x,. ' < fW Sr > ■ 
r-y- f rffUr 


■ 






irs^/zV 




/ A 


UNITED STATES OF A: 


Zg>«?<5 

Cah 


m 














Ar 







IwKSvk' . 

B— I 

V' .'-gfe.. • 

. ~~ 'iHriiir »• 

. '••> r 


J! 


i- A 


a - 'w* •£ <ifi 

-fc 




I Wv .' J v A VA rt-.Zy •- ■ / >- 5 - > * ” ‘ 21 A 

^■Ki?> L % 


if' 










>.'.' cisr 
••is*-'' ■ 1 




-.•/ft 


;fv* 


1 


V/ 


TUG 


wisjfe 


Vv- 





























. 

























































: 






























. 













' 












































































































































. 
























— * 





































✓ 







































































































































































A ROMANCE. 




Published by the Author. 







Copyright, 1891, by Wm. B. Felts. 











TO MY SWEETHEART. 


Sweet Love; There be who think that he who can write no better 
than I do, with my pen, should not conceit himself that he can afford 
in his meagre ability to have, or to claim, a sweetheart. There be also, 
Pretty Girl, who say that anyone who writes as I do, with my pen, is, to 
say little of something whereof much may be said, most damnably rep- 
rehensible whenever he so much as dares presume in his thoughts to 
possess such an inestimable treasure as you, my Darling, are. There 
be, furthermore, my Girl, who feel certain it is that the lady is little 
complimented, less honored, least pleased by being made the recipient 
of my w r ork in the proffer of dedication. These be those who follow 
up the chain of thought to the utmost and sharpest point of assuring 
themselves that the lady is most unfortunate of all, who gets me given 
in and conveyed as part and parcel of what is comprehended in the 
transfer by inscription. Nevertheless, Idolized, my work inside the 
same covers that enclose this, and I, together with my personal prop- 
erty, consisting of my best wishes for your welfare and happiness, and 
my love, are by these presents offered to you. And in witness hereof, 
I have caused my printers hereon to append my name, as follows, that, 
is to say, Yours forever, fcweet Love, 


Wat. B. Felts. 


PARTICIPANTS IN THE DRAMA* * 


Romancie. 

Norn a. 

IVANO. 

Terrol. 

Refola. 

Magera. 

Dainty. 

Dona (or Pop-eyed Pete). 

Mother Gardy. 

Bandoska. 

Mocero. 

SOILANDROCK. 

Hoonoolun. 

Bbusse. 

Gold a. 


Nymphs, sprites, elves, fairies, naiads, officers, keepers, 
attendants, gentry. 


ROMANCIE. 


FIRST ACT. 


FIRST SCENE. 

A chamber in the palace of the Duke of Golda. Duke 
Golda dying. Romancie mixing a draught at the side- 
board. 

Golda. Romancie, take cessation from that task; 

The Healer of the world for me has stirred 
That cup that cures all mortal ailments, death. 

Romancie. O, my sweet papa, that so frightens me! 

But do not call it task to minister 
To you; to love no duty is a task. 

Golda. Your close attention more than medicine 
I crave, Romancie, now; come close; pay heed! 

Romancie. Drink it, my papa, this hand brewed it, drink. 
This hand, the only hand you have permitted 
To bring your goblet, and pour out your wines,. 

And wait to serve you in ten years gone by. 

( Golda drains the cup. Romancie kisses him.) 

Golda. Romancie, look up yonder 
Romancie. What, dear papa? 

Golda. Do you see that, child? 

Romancie . Do I see what, papa? 

Golda. This stair that climbs up to that gemmy portal. 
Romancie . Hold your arms close around me, I ’m afraid. 
Golda. There’s Yaeti waiting for me at the threshold. 
Come meet me, Yaeti! we are lovers yet. 


6 


ROMANCIE. 


Romancie. ’Tis I, Romancie, papa; your Romancie. 
Golda. You knew her not, the mother of my boy. 
Romancie. My mamma Yaeti? No, I was a babe 
And brother Norna was but very small 
When Mamma Yaeti went away from us. 

Golda. You’re not my child, you were not Yaeti’s child. 
Sweet Yaeti only gave me Norna, child. 

Romancie. Oh! don’t be cruel to Romancie, papa. 

I want to love you more than ever, now. 

Golda. Stay close to me and love me as a papa, 

And listen very closely and I’ll tell you. 

When Yaeti gave me Norna she did give 
A present that almost did cost her life. 

Long months while he, sweet babe, grew by her side 
As grows a blossom, she grew pale and sickly, 

And lay debating choice of life or death. 

Romancie. But, papa, you look so unnatural. 

Golda. Don’t interrupt me, child; let me talk on. 

At last my love seemed to get its prayer heard, 

And she recovered, so that with our boy 
We traveled in a sunny, foreign land. 

There in a castle by a quiet bay, 

Where vineyards sloped down to the beachy sands, 

And orange groves ran skirting round the shore, 

I left her and came home, by duty called for. 

Romancie. Say some sweet, loving word to your Romancie. 
Golda. Ah! listen with more rapt attention, child. 

One evening, where you see the ocean yonder, 

I stood behind a crag, safe from the wind — 

For on the main a mighty storm did roar — 

When by the headland sped a vessel by, 

So near the rocks they seemed to toy with her 
As bloody beast of prey romps with its victim. 

I was just thanking God that she passed safely, 

, When in the foaming surge a living object 
Did battle bravely with the churning sea. 


ROMAN C/E. 


7 


I thought at first some marine animal 
Was driven by the fury of the blast 
Upon the rocks, and struggled to get clear. 

Romancie. Do you feel better, papa; are you stronger? 
Golda. I’ll live to tell the story, gentle child. 

Then from the waves went up a piercing shriek 
Like that a woman utters when a human 
Is dying; nay, like that a mother utters 
When she beholds her child in hopeless danger. 

I sprang into the breakers, where she clung 
With one hand to a rock, while with the other 
She clasped unto her breast a little babe. 

My sweet, my loved Homancie was that babe. 

Homancie. And was it mamma Yaeti? Where was Norna? 
Golda. Let me do all the talking, won’t you, child? 

I saved them from the sea. I took them home. 

The lady, she was very young and lovely, 

Spent with her awful battle with the sea, 

Did lay prostrated; but you, when we dressed you 
In soft, dry garments that belonged to Norna, 

Crept into bed with her and cooed and babbled 
As happy as a wax flower after rain. 

Then Yaeti, not contented far from home, 

Returned, and helped to nurse the lady well. 

And Yaeti learned to love you, my Romancie, 

Almost like Norna. But as days passed on — 

Pour me another beaker, will you, child? 

Romancie. But you’re the only papa I have had, 

And mamma Yaeti was my only mamma, 

And I love brother Norna like a brother; 

But they’re not mine, Romancie is not theirs. 

Golda. The lady did recover; and she gave 
You to us, and departed secretly, 

And we did never hear word from her more. 

She was so beautiful — like Yaeti was. 

She was refined and noble, lady-like; 


8 


ROMANCIE. 


? 


And she was womanly, and loved you, child, 

For when she went away she wept and wrung 
Her hands, and in despair seemed plunged in woe. 

She spoke the Belgin tongue most fluently, 

But with an accent that proved her not born 
In Belgin for a native land. I think 
She was of noble family of some land. 

But more I know not of your parentage. 

Romancie. Was she my mamma, papa, do you think? 
Golda. My thanks, Romancie, you still call me papa. 
I think most certainly she was your mother, 

For nature’s passions, flowing from the heart, 

Cannot be counterfeited as she showed them. 

But who you are, and how the ocean got you, 

And who she was, and why she never came 
Again to take you, I can never tell. 

I’ve lived iu dread for years she would reclaim you. 

For I do love you for your gentle self, 

And love you for the fact that Vaeti loved you. 

Romancie . And papa, I love you most tenderly, 

And I love Noma, though I’m not his sister. 

Golda. And he will care for you with tender care. 
Romancie. But will he love me as of old he did? 
Golda. He will not love you as of old he did. 

( Romancie turns away. Aside Golda says:) 

But if God answers this prayer that I make — 

I know that Yaeti prays the self same prayer — 

He will love you as I know you love. him. 

Romancie. But, papa, you will live till Norna comes. 
We’ll grieve so bitterly if you are gone, 

And never more to welcome him at home. 

The swift electric tongue told him this morning 
To come, and he replied that he would come. 

The ship e’en now is on the ocean sailing, 

And he is standing by the figure-head 


ROMAN CIE. 


9 


In agony, on the slow ocean steed 
That races all too slowly for his wishes. 

( Physicians and attendants enter.) 

Oolda. My weary form is sinking to the tomb; 

My bounding spirit longs to hurry home. [ pared 

Physician. The end is drawing near. Have you pre- 
Your earthly matters as you’d have them settled? 

Oolda. Leave us alone a little longer, friends; 

( Physicians and attendants depart the room.) 
Romancie. Death, did you come in bodied form, I’d die 
Between you and the papa I love fondly. 

How comes he, papa? Don’t succumb to him. 

Oolda. There is not such a monster as that death 
We mortals fear; we mortals never die. 

Our spirits rend these bars and flutter home. 

Death is the door between this narrow chamber 
That men name the material universe 
And that unbounded realm, infinity. 

But go, Romancie, to the mantel there. 

Romancie. I am here, Papa; bid Romancie more. 

Golda. Stand on that tile graved with a tiger’s head. 
Romancie. Well, papa, so Romancie does: what more? 
Oolda. Press firmly on that square that bears the face — 
That sweet angelic face in front of you. 

Romancie. I do, dear papa, and above my hand 
A block that seems set in the solid wall 
Slides out and in it is a cabinet, 

With parchments folded snugly there away. 

Oolda. Stand still, and press the secret trap inside. 
Romancie. I do; it fastens with metallic ling. 

Now let me stay by you, good, loving papa. 

Oolda. Can you control the secret drawer now? 
Romancie. Yes, papa. 

Oolda. Be sure, child; ’ tis constructed permanently, 

And will defy great force to open it. 


IO 


ROMANCIE. 


Bomancie. I know it, papa; I can comprehend it, 

And work the mechanism of its fastenings. 

Golda. It holds my will, my latest testament. 

I give to you its custody, and think 
I ’ll name you the executor of it. 

It gives to Norna half of my domain, 

And to Romancie gives the other half. 

Bomancie. Pray, papa, give it all to brother Norna. 

I thank you from my heart, and ’ tis too poor 
Reward to you, I know, but give it all 
To Norna and he ’ll give to me my share, 

Aud I will have it then, his gift and yours. 

Golda. ’ Tis settled, girl, and now too late to mend it. 
I give to you this old, ancestral castle, 

And with it lands and tenements that make 
An equal half of all my wide domains. 

You’ve been its sweet girl mistress now so long, 

I will not take it from you. It is done. 

Leave the will there where it is surely safe. 

Call back the surgeons, and call in the servants. 

{Bomancie summons them in.) 

Golda. My boy! My Norna! I so want him here. 

I give my blessing to him and to you. 

Farewell, Romancie. With your angel presence 
These long, long years were cheered always along. 

I ’ll reach my hands from Heaven down to bless you. 
Give my love with your own love to our Norna. 
Bomancie. O, Papa! papa! papa! I so love you. 
Golda. Sing me that song that you so many times 
Have sung to me that makes me think of Vaeti. 

But say farewell now; while you sing I ’ll go. 

Bomancie. O papa! breaking heart can never sing. 
Golda. Why should the living weep the happy dying? 
( The old servants gather around.) 

Be faithful to Romancie. Always shield her. 

My sweet Romancie, sing my favor song. 


RO MANCIE. 


1 1 


Uomancie , singing weepingly. 

Ah! darling, our love days are gone, 

And you are gone, but not forever; 

For soon that golden day will dawn 
Wherein 1 ’ll cross death’s chilly river. 

I loved you wife as life 
When you were mine; 

But life without you, wife, 

I would resign. 

Existence was a blissful dream 
When you were mine, but when you left me 
A longing agony did seem 
Of love of life to have bereft me 

Wife, in eternal life 
I’ll join you soon. 

Life everlasting, wife, 

Is then our boon. 

( The scene closes , Uomancie singing.) 

The curtains fall, the day is done 
The weary life is nearly ended. 

Sing low! O music, softly run 
In mournful time; a life is ended. 

This longing, earthly life 
For both is done. 

The husband and the wife 
In bliss are one. 

SECOND SCENE. 

The deck of a ship , Mocero at the wheel. Bandoska 
enters. 

Bandoska. The very shadows of the night do favor us. 
The threatening clouds loom there on the horizon, 

And soon will roll across the brow of Heaven 


12 


ROMANCIE. 


As though the austere God above consented 
To muff His eye and not look on our crime. [ tion 

Mocero. But what if this storm were that God’s injunc- 
Against the meditated deed of bloodshed? [ spill. 

Bandoska. Of bloodshed? Curse! No drop of gore need 
Toss him across the rail, and in the jaws 
Of the fierce, never-satiated sea 
He will be snatched to swift annihilation. 

Mocero. But are you sure the exigency needs 
The boy’s destruction? Often times a blow 
Is struck, which, being all uncalled for, makes it seem 
A wanton stroke. Must we do murder on him? 

Bandoska. You know I am not Lord of Undezerne 
By any title of inheritance. 

But I usurped the sway by guileful scheming. 

You well remember that dark night of horrors 
When we did hurl the heiress and her babe 
Into the ravenous sea. They did not perish; 

They were both rescued by the duke of Golda. 

You well remember how she came, disguised, 

To Undezerne, with the fond, hopeless hope 
That she could liberate her prisoned husband. 

For she well knew if she informed against me, 

And asked of the authorities their aid 

To oust me, I would take away her husband’s life. 

So she did come disguised. She had a notion 
That, on the ground, her love would soon devise 
Some means to overreach my circumspection. 

She would not tell what happened with the child, 

And I did think it dead. But not long since 
As I stole to her cell I heard her raving 
In frenzy verging on a maniac’s actions. 

In the delirium of her lamentations 
I heard by piecemeal how she had entrusted 
Her child to Golda’s wife, to keep and rear, 

Until the term of her woes would expire. 


RO MANCIE. 


*3 


Now this boy, Norna, thinks that girl his sister, 

And he is half consumed with his impatience 
To reach his home, as much to love Romancie 
And solace her bereavement, as to reach 
His father’s side ere he has passed away. 

This boy will prove a dangerous foe to us. 

He has the wit of Satan, and the valor 
Of energetic spirit. He must die. 

Mocero. He never will suspect that she, his sister, 
Romancie, as he names her, is an heiress 
To anything but the domains of Golda, 

Which she will share with him. 

The maid herself will never dream of it. 

The better way is to just let them live, 

As they now live, in ignorance of it all. 

Bandoska. I think not so. The old man ere he dies 
Will tell her that she is not whom she thinks. 

And if he does not know her lineage — 

And I don’t think he does — he still will tell 
Her that which will set on investigation 
And close research that any time may trap me. 

Mocero. I do not think it barely possible. 

Bandoska. I tell you, sir, that everything conspires 
To wrench the covering from conspiracy. 

The very circumstances seem possessed 
With fingers to point out the bold impostor. 

And all the earth, the air, and ocejan teem 
With agencies that sneak around the criminal 
And mock his efforts to conceal his guile. 

The boy shall die: he is an obstacle. 

I will not sleep till I have in my power, 

Keyed in a dungeon cell, that girl, Romancie. 

I hold her father and her mother safe, 

And her I swear I will incarcerate. 

Then when I have them in a stony grave 


r 4 


ROMANCIE . 


I’ll feel me fixed in all my rich possessions 
As firmly as though death had seated me. 

Mocero. The ocean swells before the coming storm; 

The sailors smell the stiffening atmosphere, 

And some of them are tumbling out already. 

We first must save ourselves: we afterwards 
Can settle whether this brave boy must die. 

Shall I shout to the men to trim the sheets ? 

Bandoska. It must be done amidst the tempest’s fury. 
You never failed me yet: if you will do it 
You may be rich in luxury forever. 

When he is gone, and when the girl is gone, 

Who then will claim the tenements of Golda ? 

We make a will, and all those legacies 
Revert to you. I greet you, Duke of Golda I 
Mocero. I’ll do it: when he stands here by the wheel 
I’ll hurl him overboard into his grave. 

Aloft ! All hands ! Snug all ! Trim sail*! Aloft ! 

By Heaven ! I can feel the inky gloom, 

Except when it is melted into light 
By the zigzagging lightning of the storm. 

( Lightning . Thunder. The wind roars.) 
Bandoska. Close reef I and hang aloft to cut away ! 

( Ocean spray and rain blown across the stage. Noma 
enters, drenched , and goes to the wheel.) 

Noma. Can you not lean her nearer to the tempest ? 
She’s carrying us far away from home. 

O, Father ! why the barrier of this storm 
Between me and my father, dying now 
In grief because his Norna is not by him. 

God pity you, Romancie ! Lean her to ! 

Mocero. If she should dare to brave this hurricane 
The lashing seas would swamp her instantly. 

She now careens almost to danger line. 

Bandoska, ( in another part of the ship, speaking through 


RO MANCIE. 


*5 


a trumpet ). Lash close all, men ! Mocero, set her prow 
Two points more fairly in the tempest’s course. 

Norna. 0, papa ! O, Romancie ! Heaven pity ! 

Mocero. Hark ! 

Norna. What ! 

Mocero. Hear you that boom ? 

Norna. Naught but the roar 

And grumbling of the sullen, hungry seas. [ ers ! 

Mocero. The breakers shriek for prey ! I hear the break- 
0, God ! I saw, as that flash lit the sky 
And gleamed along the yeasty, surging waters, 

The white, foam-covered rocks of a near shore. 

( Norna runs to the rail , and , shading his eye with his hand, 
waits for a flash of lightning. Mocero sets the wheel , lashes 
it, and stealthily follows him. ) 

Norna. O, Father ! if we’re lost, protect Romancie ! 

( Mocero seizes him and throws him over the rail.) 

O, villain ! Damned the doer — 

Mocero. Wheel ! All well ! 


THIRD SCENE. 

The dungeon of Undezerne Palace. Magera, the Lord of 
Undezerne , and Refola, his wife, present. Magera 
weak and ill, lying on a wretched bed. 

Magera. Why does the villain hesitate to end us ? 

Are fifteen years not ample time to suffer 
The maddening horrors of a living death ? 

The cold, abominable monster knows 
That life prolonged is misery condensed. 

Refola. You have me with you. Think if he should take 
Us from each other, how much greater woe 
’Twould be for both of us. 

Magera. There lies my pain: 

That you waste life, and die here as I do. 


1 6 


RO MANCIE. 


Refold, If that impregnable, grim door did grate 
And open on its rusty hinges, husband, 

And through it I could step to air and sunshine, 

Would I fly out, or stoop like this to kiss you ? 

Magerra. My heart knows which Refola would embrace; 
Her freedom, or life with me in this place. 

But I do grow almost to doubt the Deity, 

When I see vice subvert the laws of justice. 

That villain, foul as Hell, succeeds — you perish ; 

And you are so superior I ’m baffled 
To find two objects wide enough asunder 
To point to for a comparison to you. 

Corruption rides and tramples virtue down. 

Why don’t he end these useless lives of ours ? 

Refold. He is afraid to. 

Mdgerd. Does he fear the dead 

Would harry him to torment? Does he fear 
Our phantom spirits would come from the tomb 
And shatter down his peace and happiness ? 

Is it because of dread of us as ghosts 

lie keeps our spirits prisoned in these bodies, 

And keeps these bodies prisoned in this cell ? 

Refold. He fears not us: he has us in his power. 

He neither fears us living or as ghosts. [ tainly. 

Mdgerd. Whom fears he, then? Not God, most cer- 
He fears not God; for he to deeper Hell 
Cannot be damned than he’s already damned. 

Refold. He fears not God: he fears our babe, Romancie. 
When you were here alone, I far away, 

Don’t you remember how the hideous fiend 
Did hurl me and my baby to the waves ? 

God sent His servant there that night to save us, 

And God will yet send us a rescuer. 

It may be our Romancie — who can tell ? 

He hurled us in the seas and meant to come 
Straight home to murder you; but God’s good angels 


ROMANCIE. 


1 7 


Suggested to his coward’s heart the thought 
That maybe God had saved us from the ocean. [ us ? 

Magera. But why should fear of her cause him to spare 
Refold. He knows the heart’s devotion to its kindred, 
And he consoles himself with the assurance 
That if our child did learn of his huge wrongs 
He could, by threatening us, drive her to silence. 

Magera. God has a key that opes the dungeon doors 
Of any gaol: why does He not free us ? 

Refola. Pray, He preserves us to some future joy. 

We don’t beg death yet; we still have each other. 

And somewhere on the wide face of the world 
A babe, a child, a girl, a maiden, papa. 

Let us be patient and forget our misery 
Till God releases us and gives us back 
Romancie. He will do it yet, good love. 

Now let me whisper something in your ear: 

I could have brought the world inside our cell; 

I could have - brought our home inside our cell; 

The sun to shine upon us in our cell; 

The happy fields, the birds, the groves, the flowers; 

The verdant hills, the rivulets, and pleasures 
Of life. I could have given you a babe; 

But I did shudder at the thought, good love, 

That it would bring all these things in to us 
And be itself walled in forevermore. 

So I’ve at times rejected your caresses, 

And so refused yet yearned to be a mother. 

But liberation will yet come to us, 

And we will yet be blessed with our Romancie. 

And when we are again in our old home — 

For God will certainly restore us to it — 

I’ll give to you another sweeter gift. 

Magera. Big, loving heart of woman ! Are you angel ! 
She leads us to the valleys of sweet bliss, 

And when she cannot, paints us pictures of them. 

— 2 


i8 


RO MANCIE. 


Had either of us been bound here alone, 

Life had not been so long and wild and weary. 

Befola. We have been blessed with many blessings, love. 
We’ve been together; and the man and wife 
Should not complain till they are separated. 

Together they can find bliss anywhere, 

And think, oh ! think, Romancie may be happy. 

Magera. She is a girl now; she would never know us. 
Befola. Tes, she’s a girl now; and just such a girl 
As I was when my heart began to love you. 

Magera. Oh ! if she would but come in some sweet dream 
To kiss us, I believe it would be blissful. 

Befola. Then don’t despond again: it could be worse. 
Remember when he tore me from your side 
And tortured us, and starved and thirsted us 
Till life to live did gnaw and feed our vitals; 

When hunger did so raven in our frames 
We could not live, yet had not strength to die; 

When thirst so burned in fever through our veins 
Our dry, boiled blood, like melted streams of lava, 

Seared through our hearts, our arteries and veins. [mad. 

Magera . Hush, hush ! Oh, damn him ! Hush, or I ’ll go 
Revenge ! God pardon me, revenge I crave ! 

For cruelty to you, my sweet Refola, 

His woe will be so horrible in hell 
That even my mad hate will pity him. 

I wish I could forget how you did suffer. 

Oh, after he had killed us many times, 

One morn he carried you into this cell 

And threw you down upon the cold stone floor. 

In frenzy I did spring up from my straw 

And tore his throat, and would have murdered him, 

But that the devil with him struck me down 
Before I scarce could lift one shriveled hand. 

But I arose and reached your side and nursed you, 

And inch by inch crept back with you to life. 


ROMANCIE. 


l 9 


Your blue eyes looked so wan and hollow then; 

The cords within this marble throat did then 
Show through this lovely skin too very plainly; 

This sweet, bewitching form was then so thin; 

These arms, now round and beautiful, were bones; 

These limbs were then like pillars of grim want 
And meager sustenance, but now they be 
The chiseled limbs of loveliness — and mine; 

This face was then so haggard that no smile 
Could dimple on it; these cheeks could not blush — 

The ruddy blood of life was drained away; 

The lips I kissed then not like those I kiss now — 

Then hot and parched, now warm and ruby like. 

Refold. Then when we did begin to gain our strength, 

He and that other bloody man, Mocero, 

Held o’er your breast their poniards and cried, “Tell !” 
Magera. You shuddered, shrieked for mercy, but told not. 
Refold. I knew that if I did tell he then would kill you 
And then hunt down and kill our babe, Romancie. 

Mdgerd. You never thought of self, and you did keep 
The secret where our baby had been left, 

Even when I thought that with the teeth of suffering 
He ’d gnaw it from your breast. You are true, love. 

Refold. Think on our pain no more; sleep — 1 will sing. 

Sleep, love; I am near you; sleep, love; 

Sweet rest and dreams be thine. 

Deep, love, dreams bear you deep, love, 

Through realms of joy divine. 

[She lags her hedd by his on the pillow. He clasps her.) 

Hold, love, in your arms hold, love, 

This wife of thine, and sleep. 

Fold, love, in your arms fold, love, 

Your bride; guard, angels keep. 


20 


RO MANCIE. 


FOURTH SCENE. 

The palace of the queen of ocean. Brusse enters. 

Brusse. The wastes of my blue realm do not encompass 
The land, the home of men, with deeper depths 
Than do the miseries they themselves create. 

Nor do the currents of my oceans flow 
In more perpetual motion than the floods 
Of mortal man’s tear driving, grievous wrongs. 

{A fairy flits across the stage.) 

Fairy. As thick as recollections through the brain 
Come thronging, so the romps of ocean come. 

(A clanging, tinkling noise outside. Nymphs enter.) 

Nymphs. Cling ! clang ! cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Dance for mirth and gaily sing, 

Flit like swallows on the wing, 

Wheel and in a circle swing, 

Tinkle jingles, bangles ring, 

Mirth and sport from hiding bring, 

Trip it, toss it, toe it, spring 
To and fro; away we wing. 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! clang ! cling ! 

( They all fly away. Hoonoolun enters.) 

Hoonoolun. Forced entrance find I, and in trespass rude 
Invade your house and on your peace intrude. 

Brusse. Why, you are welcome. Trespass ? No, indeed; 
Your happy coming does no herald need. 

Hoonoolun. I thought I stole away all unperceived, 

But I became aware — in little time — 

That many of the rollicking air sprites 
Were following and flitting on before me. 

Brusse. They often come to rollick with my nymphs, 
And why may they not come when you are here ? 

(A Sprite flits across the stage.) 

Sprite. I ’m not alone; a troop of us are near. 


RO MANCIE. 


21 


(A troop of sprites enter. Merry music.) 
Bim ! bom ! bim ! bom ! bim ! 

Round and round in circles swim, 
Faces cheerful, persons trim, 

Lovely arm and lovely limb, 

Graceful waist and dainty, slim, 

Meet a fellow, flirt with him, 

Bim ! bom ! bim ! bom ! bim ! 


( Elves of the air , imps and nymplis of the ocean enter. 
Imps and elves in lines on one side of the stage facing sprites 
and nymphs on the other side.) 


{Imps and elves sing.) 

{Sprites and nymphs 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Bim ! bom ! bim ! 

Here we be ! 

So are we ! 

He, ha, he ! 

Ha, ha, he ! 

Ha, ha, he ! 

He, ha, he ! 

Dance and sing, 

Dance and swim, 

Gay are we, 

Wild and free 

Can’t you see ? 

Aye are we, 

Voices ring, 

Arm and limb 

Circle, swing, 

Keep the time. 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Bim ! bom ! bim ! 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Bim ! bom ! bim ! 

May we come ? 

We’re at home, 

You caress ? 

Can’t you guess, 

And you kiss ? 

Now confess, 

We’ll do this, 

That you miss 

Hit or miss, 

Joy and bliss, 

If you won’t 

If you don’t ? 

Care ! 

There ! 


(. Elves and imps pair with nymphs and sprites , and in 
cross clasp parade and sing.) 

Bim ! bom ! bim ! cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Wheel and circle, dance and sing. 


22 


RO MANCIE. 


What’s the sweetest bliss of blisses? 

Lover’s kiss is, such as this is. 

Will it tease you if we squeze you ? 

Jf it please you, no one sees you. 

Circle faster, swifter swing, 

Let us plunge into the sea, 

Let us float in gentle breezes, 

Each one, mate for company, 

Go where going most it pleases, 

Some will ride the dolphin gay, 

Some will idle in the spray, 

Some will seek the shady bay, 

Some in groves of coral play, 

Some ride on the sunny ray, 

None will in the palace stay, 

All will hurry soon away. 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! clang ! cling ! 

Queens, for you a merry day, 

Cling ! clang ! cling ! away I 

( They all run singing away.) 

Brusse. The air seems still to quiver with the sound. 
Hoonoolun. Now to my errand. Brusse, on the sea 
A ship is sailing now and bearing on 
A brave and smooth-lipped boy to his destruction. 

For on the decks with him there are two villains 
That should be swallowed by your beating waves ; 

For they plot murder on the handsome boy. 

Brusse. What motive bids a horrid deed so foul ? 
Hoonoolun. Bandoska is the name of one of them, 
And he is such a monster as your realms 
Would be affrighted to find in their depths. 

He holds imprisoned in his dreary dungeons 
Magera and Refola, who are justly 
Entitled to the dukedom he usurps. 

Magera and Kefola have a child 


RO MANCIE. 


2 3 


Whom they entrusted many years ago 
To foster parents, parents of this boy 
These bloody men do hold in jeopardy. 

This boy believes this girl his natural sister, 

And she believed herself so till to-day 
When her good foster father dying told her 
No drop of his blood mantled in her blushes. 

This fiend Bendoska lately did discover 

Her dwelling place and now goes to destroy her. 

And in his fears that he, the boy, will prove 
A brave defender of his foster sister, 

He will to-night cast him into the sea. 

Brusse. Why then my nymphs shall follow in the wake 
Of that same vessel, and when he is tossed 
Across the rail they will lend succor to him. 

Hoonoolun. Let it be so ; and I’ll instruct my fairies 
To guard the girl and her advise of harm. 

Brusse. Do so ; and let us both together go 
And tell Soilandrock how those prisoners, 

Magera and Refola, now do languish 
And waste in duress of imprisonment. 

Hoonoolun. Shall we ride in my whirlwind to his palace, 
Or ride your ocean car behind your steeds ? 

Brusse. You ride your whirlwind, I will mount my car; 
You speed through air, and I will thunder down 
The roads of ocean, and we will make test 
Which can the soonest cross the length of space. 

Hoonoolun. I ’ll wait for you until your panting team 
Arrives with you: I ’ll pass you like a beam. 

Brusse. To do and then boast is the best, I deem. 


2 4 


RO MANCIE. 


FIFTH SCENE. 

The palace of the king of land , Soilandrock sleeping. 
Hoonoolun and Brusse enter. 

Brusse. Steal cautiously along unto his side. 

And we will shout both at the self-same time 
And frighten him away from all his wits. 

( They creep near and stoop , one on either side.) 
Hoonoolun. ) ( Die ! knave ! 

Brusse. f ( Die ! slave ! (He leaps up.) 

Soilandrock. Rebellious earth ! cease quaking instantly ! 
Brusse. ’T is not the land, but the land’s king that quakes. 
Hoonoolun. The houses stagger to the drunken man; 

Men are black spotted worms to the milk sop, 

Who, wanting brains, thinks he has all things else; 

We are all fools to the conceited fop; 

And the earth trembles to our trembling king. [ you ! 

Soilandrock. You ugly, goose-skinned wenches ! I detest 
Hoonoolun. Your compliments were of a different kind 
When you did look at us, and, with desire 
Speaking in glances from your thirsting eyes, 

Ask us to bed with you here in your palace. 

Brusse. That is the reason why his compliments 
Do change from hypocritical soft sweetness 
To this unfeigned and honest coarse reviling. 

We did refuse when he did beg for us; 

For slumbering by ourselves we know we sleep 
With purity and those who dearly love us. [alone. 

Soilandrock. Bliss sleeps not with her who does sleep 
Hoonoolun. Woe sleeps not in an undivided bed. 

Brusse. You still do tremble, mighty king of land. [ fear. 
Soilandrock. I tremble not; your shouts moved not my 
But I will teach my guards more care. 

If you can steal in unobserved like this 
I might in slumber be beset by foes 
And bound a prisoner ere I awoke. 


ROMANCIE. 


2 5 

( He takes a gigantic trumpet and sounds a blast that jars 
the palace. Fairies flit out of the horn and speed away. 
The stage is soon filled with beings of the supernatural 
world.) 

Soilandrock. Neglectful sentinels ! Why keep you not 
Your vigils with more careful watchfulness 
When I do catch repose in dreamy sleep ? 

Guard. We were on duty and alert as troops 
Invading foreign land until a bevy 
Of fairies came and joined in sport with us. 

We gradually lapsed to carelessness, 

And ere we knew it we had followed them 
Into the clouds, to play at hide and seek, 

And never thought again of our position 
As sentinels until your trumpet sounded. 

Soilandrock. The females ever lead the males astray, 

But they go willingly the females’ way. 

And duty-shirkers ever find a chance 
To lay the blame on some poor circumstance. 

Stay, you who are the luckless reprobates, 

To get the punishment awarded you. 

{All but the unfortunates precipitately decamp.) 
Sweet, gentle queens, I have an easy method 
To mete out punishment to such as those 
Who merit it. Beneath this iron door 
There is a deep, unfathomed opening 
That leads into the bowels of tl^e world. 

I built my palace over a volcano 

Whose crater pierces into burning depths 

Where billowing lava rolls in glowing heat 

Intense and terrible. I ope this door 

That chains the heat within, and drive the culprits 

Into the flames that surge up to the opening. 

( The guards and the fairies that ogled them away , fall 
upon their knees and entreat for mercy.) 


26 


ROMANCIE. 


All. Sovereign, on our knees before you, 

We, for mercy sweet, implore you. 

Spare us punishment in pain; 

Trust us, Sovereign, again. 

Pardon us, and us forgive, 

And we truer lives will live. 

Men and angels go astray; 

God forgives them when they pray. 

Claim one godly quality — 

Melt in mercy at our cry. 

( Soilandrock opens the door and tongues of smokeless , 
ductile flames leap forth.) 

Soilandrock. You purchased for yourselves this woe; 

The door is open — in you go. 

Brusse. Shall hate burn hotter than the glow 

Of flames that sweep from Hell below ? 

Will you from pity’s pleading turn, 

And mercy’s supplication spurn ? 

The heart that bleeds not at the prayer 
Of penitence, to deep despair, 

In Hell’s infernal pains will go 
When death that heart has stricken low. 
Hoonolun. Take warning, monarch of the land, 

And ere you doom this pleading band 
To torture in that hissing Hell 
Hark to the prophecy I tell: 

If you compassion’s pleading scorn, 

In miseries and woes forlorn 
You will be hurried when you stand 
At mercy of a stronger hand. 

Soilandrock. I say again, my heart do n’t heed 
Your words that seek to make it bleed. 

Then pay the penalty of sin, 

The door is open wide — step-in. 

Your sins brought on your heads this woe, 

The portal opens — in you go. 


RO MANCIE. 


2 7 


(He waves his hand; they are swept into the flames.) 

All. Fire! fire! fire! fire! 

Oh, we ’re burning ! we expire ! 

Quench your wrath, O earthly sire, 

And free us from these horrors dire. 

O queens, if any prayer can hire 
Your pity, save us ! we expire ! 

Oh, we ’re burning ! we expire ! 

Fire ! fire ! fire ! fire ! 

Brusse . Infernal malefactor, I will free them. [way ! 
Hoonoolun. Cold, horrible, damned fiend; give way, give 
( They thrust him aside , open the door , and the miserable , 
tortured sprites , plumes burned off, heads bald , and stark 
naked , rush out and away. They toss the king in and fasten 
dozen the door.) 

Soilandrock. Oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! 

Oh, woe is hell, and I am woe. Release me. 

The torture I ’ll invent and pour upon you 
If you release me not will sicken you 
So near to death that you can feel his jaws 
Gnash at your hearts and sever half their strings. 

Release me ! I am breathing liquid fire. 

Brusse. Sink down, sir king, where Nature’s laboratory 
Is stocked with primal, crude materials, 

And richen science with the deep research. 

Plunge to the center of the womby world, 

And see what embryonic birth is forming 
In that most central organ of the globe. [you ! damn you ! 
Soilandrock. Release me ! Damn you ! damn you ! damn 
Brusse. Be patient! darling! darling! darling! darling! 
Hoonoolun. How many somersaults does it require, 

O mighty monarch of earth’s buried fire, 

From this cool surface to the central spot 
Where is no cold and even the ice is hot ? 

Soilandrock. My hate will burn you when I ’m free again. 
Release me, or I ’ll quake this orb^d world 


28 


ROMANCIE. 


With such terrific vigor, rent in shatters 

’T will wander, broken fragments, through the air. 

Eoonoolun. A little policy is good at any time. 

It is impolitic to threaten us 

When you are in our power — at our mercy. 

No king is powerful above his realm, 

Nor underneath it, either — you are powerless. 

Soilandrock. Release me instantly, or when I ’m free 
I ’ll clasp you in caress of copulation, 

And if I be not hotter from this hell, 

When ’twixt your legs, than lust can ever heat me — 

Why, then, castration make my body fat. 

Release me ! Oh, release me ! Iam naked; 

My royal robes are burned quite from my person, 

And now the flames do gnaw at my appendages. 

Release me ! Iam breathing, drinking fire 1 
Brusse. Will you swear by your honor, you will see 
The spirits of your realm are set to duty 
To free Magera and Refola, whom 
You have permitted to lie chained for years 
Within a horrid dungeon of your realm ? [it. 

Soilandrock. Yes, clapp-scorched whores, I will attend to 
Release me; I ’ll piss fire for nine days. 

{They put their fingers in their ears , and fly.) 


ROMANCIE. 


29 


SECOND ACT. 

FIRST SCENE. 

Palace of Golda. Romancie enters. 

Romancie. You, Death, dread child of cold Mortality, 
Plunge me in sorrow and my heart untune. 

Can it be that no more, my loving papa, 

Your loving lips will speak Romancie’s name ? 

I can’t believe you gone ; you are not gone ; 

You’re near me, papa. Your departed shade 
Most surely must be near me ; for I feel 
Your presence yet and can’t believe you gone. 

(An Attendant enters.) 

Attendant. Two strangers wait before the gates of Go'da, 
And beg your leave to enter. 

Romancie. I know not 

If it be best to let them enter here. 

I wish my brother Norna would arrive. 

Attendant . They seem most eagerly to crave admittance. 
They wear the dress and tongues of gentlemen. 

Romancie. One cloak may hide diversity of hearts. 

Yet in the grace of Golda’s hospitality 
I will not turn them roughly from my doors. 

Admit them, but stay with more servants near. 

(Attendant departs. A fairy flies through , ringing a bell.) 
Romancie. What tintinnabulary sound is that ? 

Fairy. Beware I your visitors are bloody men I 
Romancie. That was a little silver voice did say 
“Beware ! your visitors are bloody men !” 

But where the body whose throat uttered it ? 

My eyes won’t tell me. It must be my fear. 


30 


ROMANCIE. 


I wish for Norna ; my breast yearns for him 
And wants to trust his presence altogether. 

(Bandoska and Mocero enter.) 

I like them not : I am afraid of them. 

Bandoska. Is that Romancie ? Lovely girl, Mocero. 
Mocero. More glorious beautiful than my ideal. 
Romancie. The welcome and the hospitality 
Of Golda pray accept without the proffer ; 

Who was accustomed to make tender of them 
Has gone to his reward, and welcomes elsewhere. 

Bandoska. If the fair hostess is the maid Romancie 
I have a tiding for her gentle ear. 

Romancie. I am Romancie. But I do not crave 
The wishiess compliments of stranger tongue. 

Mocero. Be cautious in your traffic with the lass 
Lest she with witty tongue do discipline you, 

Bandoska. Fair lady, if I do become unpopular 
With you at first and break in favor with you, 

My mission grows a harder policy, 

And sets me deeper in the pains of telling it. 

Romancie. The price of popularity is not 
The flattery nor shallow compliments 
Of strangers, nor time serving selfish praise 
Of those whose favor it is hoped to gain. 

If you are come in business with me, sir, 

Proceed to its discussion; first, to please me, 

And next, that we may have it sooner settled. 

Bandoska. Fair lady, if you pine for riddance of us 
So soon, ’tis best we go unceremoniously. 

Romancie. I neither asked your coming nor your going. 
Remain if so you will; go if you wish. 

These doors are never closed to gentle comers, 

But freedom of the house is all I give. 

So with it my permission is not given 
That you shall speak in compliments to me 
Before I know your friendship and sincerity. 


RO MANCIE. 


3 1 

Bandoska . Fair lacly — 

(She lifts her hand.) 

Romancie (aside.) Surely he has evil purpose 
In coming here and knows my circumstances, 

Or he would not so lord it in uncivil 
And heedless impoliteness in my house. 

(Aloud) You may remain if you be gentlemanly. 

If not, the palace vomits you outside. 

Bandoska. Fair, excellent, sweet lady — 

Romancie (singing.) 

Give me a peasant’s home. 

And just one luxury, 

Contentment, and I ’ll be 
• Gay, happy, frolicsome. 

(Bandoska, enraged , takes a step toward her. A sword with 
gleaming , polished blade and hilt of gems falls and sticks 
in the floor between them. He starts back in terror and 
astonishment.) 

Bandoska. What does this trick import ? 

Mocero. Whence did it fall ? 

Romancie. Pray go at once from me. I do not know 
Why secret agents, deft in legerdemain, 

Should practice sleight before me in this manner. 

Pray go, I feel a strange uneasiness. 

(A fairy up above the stage sings.) 

Oh ! If we knew how round us throng 
The beings knowledge never guesses, 

We’d dread to do full many a wrong 
We fancy done where none redresses. 

( They all look upward and a fairy shoots across the stage 
and bears away the sword.) 

Bandoska. My beautiful, sweet lady, play no tricks — 
Romancie. If you sanguinely hope your low insults 
Will be endured because ’ tis in my home, 


3 2 


ROMANCIE. 


You fool your erring wisdom with the thought. 

My servants I Drive these brutal men away. 

( Sei'vants rush in, "beat them down, and hustle them with much 
rough severity outside.) 

Fairy. 

Pure, noble girl ! If you would be secure, 

The gloze of flatterers dread to endure. 

They steal through vanity’s ease-opened door, 

And rob your casket of its gemmy store. 

And when your jewels are forever gone, 

They set you wandering in the world alone. 

Beware of flattery ! Its cords do bind 
The yielding, softening souls of all mankind. 

More girls are bought by flattery to shame 
A noble character and nohle name 
Than other causes all combined can buy 
To sinful wretchedness and misery. 

( An attendant comes in.) 

Attendant. We thrust them out, but they will not depart. 
They send profuse apologies to you, 

And beg ten thousand pardons if but one. 

They say they have news from your brother, Noma. 

Bomancie. An evil messenger ne’er brought good tidings. 
Let them come in, but wait within the halls, 

Prepared to come whene’er Bomancie calls. 

My more than brother, Noma, evil tidings 
From you will chill my heart to reckless grief. 

Yet I will hope good tidings till I hear 
The pestilential evil, if it comes. 

( BandosJca and Mocero enter.) 

Tell me most promptly what you know of Norna; 

My fiery-footed haste can ’t bide delay. 

Bandoska. Why, he set out for home on yester morn. 
Bomancie. Why, so he said he would. What more of 
Bandoska. He has not come ? [ him ? 


ROMANCIE. 


33 


Bomancie. If so, he would be here. 

Bandoska. Why, then, I know he has not yet arrived. 
Bomancie. My heart do n’t beg for this intelligence; 

It knows it all too well. 

Bandoska. He never will come. 

Bomancie. Unsay that, sir, and dash this rising pallor 
From me, and set again in customed motion 
My heart. Unsay that, sir; it suffocates me. 

Bandoska. Plain spoken truth can never be unsaid; 

Nor falsehood: of itself it shatters dead. 

Bomancie. Where is he ? Only tell me where he is. 
Bandoska. The ocean that can answer: I can not. 
Bomancie. Drowned in the ocean ! In its low-lands low 
Forever sunk, as I am sunk in woe. 

You tell me lies, to crush with heavy grief 
My heart, and spirit of my independence. 

You say that he is dead, and lie in saying; 

And Heaven’s thunders mutter that you lie, 

For God Almighty will preserve him for me. 

Bandoska. I say not he is dead. 

Bomancie. Then he ’s alive. 

Bandoska. I said not so. I say he will not come. 
Bomancie. Then he is dead, for living he would come. 
Dead ! Dead ! Speak not that awful word again; 

It crushes soul, that horror-moving word. 

Bandoska. The sea alone can tell you of the boy 
# And we alone can tell you of the sea. 

Mocero. Speed on; she is too deadened to solicit 
Your explanations. She can only hear 
Her sad woe ever wailing “ Dead ! Dead ! Dead ! ” 
Bandoska. The boy was journeying home, and had but 
At Undezerne, to charter a stout ship [ paused 

Wherein to speed across the indenting sea 
Of Rowlon, when the awful message came 
That told him of his father’s nearing end. 

In feverish haste he rushed to me and begged 


34 


ROMANCIE. 


Me to put out and bring him in my yacht 
Across the face of Rowlon to his home. 

I granted; for acquaintance with the boy 
Had bred an intimacy of good friendship. 

We spread all sail, and bounded through the foam 
In gait to glad the heart, had not the shade 
Of death hung over our swift, anxious cruise. 

Romancie. O Heaven ! Is it possible two blows 
Have in one day dealt double death to me ? 

But speak on, sir. The vessel sailed, you say — 

Bandoska. Most swiftly did she dash the running billows 
And bounded over them until we came 
In sight of this green shore whereon we saw 
Appearing like a little fleck far off 
The dome of Golda palace. 

Romancie. Oh ! was he so near 

The summit of his wishes, and his hopes, 

And is he now so far from his Romancie ? 

But haste on, sir. You saw the palace dome — 

Bandoska. And then a storm burst on the scourged sea, 
And in the perils of an awful danger 
We drove southeast along the threatening coast. 

Romancie. How wept you then, sweet Norna ! 
Bandoska. While the storm 

Did almost baffle all our crew to keep 
The vessel trim before it, Norna came 
Unto the wheel to lend a helping hand. 

Just then the main guys snapped, the vessel labored 
And lurched a quarter round so that a wave, 

A whooping billow rolling in the wind, 

Leaped on the deck and thundered over us. 

We heard a wild deep cry as it passed on, 

For it did bear your brother overboard. 

Romancie. O God ! was there no hand to save my love ? 
Bandoska. We cast the buoys and cast the life-lines out, 
And set the vessel to and listened long, 


ROMANCIE. 


35 


And pierced the inky night with anxious gazes, 

But heard nor saw him more. 

Romancie. Oh ! mind me not. 

Let me go from you ; I would be alone. 

There is a pain here that is killing me. 

0 Norna, mine is more than sister’s love. 

Bandoska. There is a shadow chance he might have 

A buoy and rode the tempest out in safety. [caught 

If we should take the vessel and scud down 
The coast to make iuquiries we might happen 
Upon some knowledge of his fate, at least. 

Romancie. Oh ! if the hand of God did reach amidst 
The stormy brine to save him, he will fly 
To tell me by a sweet kiss he is safe. 

1 can not go. Remain to-day, I pray you. 

Remain to-night, and on to-morrow, too, 

And let me hear again the dreadful story. 

Your more than sister weeps your fate, my love. 

{She passes from the room ) 

Mocero. What meant her “more than sister” ? 

Bandoska. She does know 

As much as her dead father could explain. 

} T will all go well. He dead, she soon to be; 

Then home we go to execute the prisoners. 

I now begin to feel more good assurance 
Than I have felt for years. And I can see 
The servants bowing to you, Duke of Goldo. 

( The jewel-hilted sword falls again between them. They 
start back in supernatural fear. A voice above.) 

Voice. Take warning from that swift-descending sword 
And turn from evil at the warning word. 

The plots of criminals are never hid; 

The crime ’s still living when the victim ’s dead. 

Then dread the vengeance of relentless fate, 

And take the warning ere it comes too late. 


ROMANCIE. 


36 

Dread doom pursues who dares to do not right, 
And drives him downward to the realms of night. 
Our eyes are on you, then consider well 
Before you choose the horrid road to hell. 


SECOND SCENE. 

A place on the sea coast. Sunrise. Norna kneeling under 
a ledge of a cliff. 

Noma. Oh ! praise you, God; you me did not abandon 
In the dire time of my extremity. 

My father prayed for me; my mother, too; 

And sweet Romancie, my beloved sister. 

Pray pardon me, O Father: I forgot 

My prayers in the enormity of rage 

That burnt within me when he threw me over. 

But other prayers ascend, as the incense 
From hallowed offering mounts up the skies. 

When the black, leaden waters swallowed me 
I yielded in despair, but you were near 
With that blest agent of inanimation 
That floated to my hand and buoyed me up. 

My limbs, benumbed, will not support me longer. 

God, you whose arm protected me, will keep 
Romancie till I come. Make me more thankful; 

And help me to forget my rage and vengeance 
Against those menacers of my existence, 

For all my soul is darkened with my purposes. 

(lie sleeps. The fairies enter , and the nymphs and imps.) 
Fairy. He sleeps. 

Fairy. Speak softly; let the darling sleep. 

You imps and nymphs, keep him lulled in this sleep 
Till yonder sun rides down the western hill. 

He must not be permitted to get home 


ROMANCIE. 


37 


Before to-night is drawing on to morning. 

Stay here with him; we must now haste away. 

( The fairies depart.) 

Nymph. He is a pretty boy. 

Nymph. Most beautiful ! 

When he was standing on the vessel’s deck 
I longed the coming hour, when human hatred 
Would hurl him in the sea: 1 longed to clasp him. 

Nymph. And I did want to whisper to the brain 
Of those who plotted evil to the boy, 

. “Now is the time; there ’s danger in delay.” 

For I, too, longed to arm his lithe, brave form 
In lifting him above the drowning waves. 

Imp. Let us be gone. 

Nymph. And why ? 

Imp. We ’re out of place. 

Nymph. Why out of place ? 

Imp. Your words are all for him; 

Your admiration all flows out to him; 

You only want to kiss and him caress; 

You’re like all females — you want something new. 
We, who have worshiped you and idolized you 
In all these years, are now left on the pegs, 

While this new-crested jay is lionized. 

You slight away the old friend’s constancy, 

And prate of the soft charms of one who cares 
No more for you than tiger for a meal 
Of oranges. His love is for the maid 
Who waits for him at home, and not for you. 

He wants a maid whose body always holds 
The attributes of firm materiality; 

He wants a girl whose body doe3 resist 
With sweet resistance, such as bliss creates, 

The pressure of his arms and kissing lips. 

He does not even know of your existence, 

And yet you set him up in your affections 


ROMANCIE. 


33 

Upon the crashed down forms of those who love you. 

But why should we blame you that you were made 

With inclinations toward diversity 

Of beaux and zest to try the fit of new things ? 

Nymph. The imps are jealous, or we are all frogs. 

Ta, ha, ha, ha ! Even dreams would blush to own it. 

For shame, nymphs ! Groundless jealousy is what? 

The grossest selfishness and cleanest proof 
Of mind devoid of magnanimity. 

Nymph. If my love ever does get jealous of me 
Without a cause, I then will give him cause. 

If he mistrust me worthy of the name, 

1 will be worthy, for I ’ll play the game. 

Nymph. Wives may accept attentions anywhere, 

If those attentions full respectful are. 

And husband should be gratified if she, 

His wife, is favored by the courtesy 
Of other gentlemen and other beaux; 

For social spirit is not lust, God knows. 

Nymph. Were I an imp or elf, and had a wife, 

I certify upon my truth and life, 

If none but me would look at her or give 
Her notice, with her I would never live. 

Nymph. Not she who’s courted for her sense and wit 
For acts of shame should be suspected fit; 

Nor she whose husband joys to see her get 
The esteem and notice of his social set. 

But when the husband by his actions shows 
That he suspicious and mistrustful grows, 

The world may take it granted that he knows 
His wife’s licentious with the trusted beaux. 

Nymph. The wretched husband who mistrusts his wife 
Deserves no better than to have his life 
Despoiled forever of its happiness. 

For men and gods and angels all confess 


RO MANCIE. 


39 


That women doubted are most like to fall. 

For faith the prop is that supports us all. 

Nymph. The wife, when all the world holds her in scorn, 
Should, by her husband, as the dewy morn 
Be held as pure. But when he doubts her truth, 

The world to trust her is in justice loath. 

Nymph. So don’t be jealous; we did only save 
This blooming gallant from an ocean grave 
For sweet Romancie. For ourselves, we love 
The imps and elves. Be loving with us then, 

And dance the dew-fall on the sandy plain. 

Behold ! he awakens ! All your voices tune, 

And sing the measures of “The Honeymoon.” 

{Song and dance.) 

The lamps are lighted in the sky, 

The waves along the shore are flashing. 

The zephyrs’ twilight lullaby 
Has closed in sleep the peeping eye 
Of each sweet bloom, whose colors, flashing, 
Glowed in the sun as day crept by. 

The birds that hitherto were dashing 
In rapid, fitful flight, now fly 
No more. The ghosts of night are passing. 

Love, lead me out into the night, 

And let us wander in the gloaming. 

For in the moonbeams’ mellow light, 

The sweet uncertainty of night, 

I long with you, dear, to be roaming. 

Now clasp me closely, hold me tight, 

And tell me, in the seasons coming 
Will I your darling still be ? Might 
Not coldness us to dole be dooming ? 


4 ° 


ROMANCIE. 


Come, let us sail across the sea 
To summer climes of fruit and flowers. 
Our honeymoon is long, and we 
Can sail around the world and be 
Again in this sweet home of ours 
Before it passes. Then bring me 

Back to the groves and well-loved bowers 
Of this our home where mirth and glee 
The blissful, flowing time devours. 

Imp. He sleeps. Let us ascend the halls of air 
And sink down swiftly as a shooting star. 


THIKD SCENE. 

The dungeon of Undezerne Palace. Magera and Refola 
sleeping. Fairies enter. 

Fairy. It makes me shudder. It could almost hold 
A spirit in its walls. But even a spirit 
That forms and fits itself to its surroundings 
Would languish for the means of life caged here. 

O liberty, none know your priceless worth 
But shackled slaves. How incomparable 
In godly excellence are you, O freedom ! 

A man is not a man when he surrenders 
His independence to a sovereign lord. 

Fairy. We must be ready to awaken them 
When our companions lead the child along 
The hall beyond that grating there. Look there ! 

{Refola lifts a hand and gesticulates.) 

Refola. Romancie ! 

Fairy. She is dreaming of her child. 

The child is always in the mother’s mind, 

It is the object of her thoughts awake, 

It is the central figure of her dreams. 


ROMANCIE. 


4 1 

Fairy. Hark ! I hear Dainty. They should be aroused. 

( Dainty runs along the corridor outside.) 

Dainty. Te dump, te dump, te diddle de dump, 

Te dump, te diddle, te dse de dump. runs by. 

Fairy. She has gone past, but she will soon return. 

See there ! The mother still dreams of the child. 

Step back there to the wall and when I motion, 

Like this, we both will murmur, “Mamma, mamma !” 

That will electrify her instantly. 

( Refola extends her hands and beckons.) 

Refola. Romancie ! pretty babe ! come, pretty child ! 
Fairy. ) ( Mamma ! 

Fairy, j ] Mamma ! [Refola springs icildly up. 

Refola. Romancie ! [Screams. 

{Magera starts up. She gazes around the cell and bitterly 
weeping falls upon his arm.) 

Refola. Cruel dream ! most cruel dream ! 

Magera. What frightened you, sweet ? 

Refola. Oh ! I was so happy ! 

Magera. What wrung that shriek, then ? 

Refola. I did sleep and dream 

My baby was beside me, and so near 
That I could almost reach her with my arms, 

And she was gazing with big, wondering eyes 
And thought she knew me but could not be sure. 

I was chained to the wall and could not move — 

Chained by my throat and ankles to the wall. 

I stretched as far as my poor arms could reach 
And wrenched with mighty force against my shackles 
Till they did cut my ankles to the bones 
And choked my throat in horrid suffocatiou. 

I beckoned to my child and called to her, 

“Romancie! pretty babe ! come, pretty babe !” 

I murmured softly as a mother calls 

Her child to her. But still she was in doubt. 


4 2 


ROMANCIE. 


She stood so near me and gazed in my face, 

A pleading, loving, questioning, anxious gaze, 

And yet could not be sure. But suddenly 
A radiant smile did dimple on her face, 

And beamed in recognition heavenly. 

With superhuman strength I surged my chains 

And snapped them thread-like, and she uttered “Mamma !” 

And sprang into my arms: I was in Heaven ! 

Magera. O, happy dream ! O, horrible awakening ! 
Refold. O, could I read the deep portent of dreams ! 

( Dainty looks through the grating. She gazes at them in 
long , bewildered , wondering stare.) 

Dainty. My goodness gracious ! What a place to live in ! 
Refold. Child, are you, too, a dream ! 

Dainty. Why, no indeed; 

I ’m Dainty. But the boys nickname me Daint — 

Doggone their nasty souls. 

Refola. Sweet angel, Dainty ! 

Dainty. Oh, my sakes, ma’am ! I ’m not a bit an angel. 

I guess I ’m just as mean a kid as lives. 

Magera. If any man would know what music is, 

Let him in exile live for fifteen years 

Then hear the artless voice of innocent childhood. [ child ! 
Refola. Sweet, pretty child ! Fair, pretty, sweet-voiced 
Dainty. Heh I Heh ! ( Puts a hand over her eyes.) 
Refola. My little, darling child ! 

Dainty. Heh I Heh ! ( Covers her face with both hands. ) 

Refola. I want to kiss you, child. 

Dainty. Heh ! Heh ! ( She gets at side of grating and 
•peeps in with one eye. ) 

Refola. May I come closer, and just kiss your hand ? 
Dainty. Heh ! Heh ! ( Goes away , comes back , peeps in.) 
Refola. What is the matter, child ? 

Dainty. You are so funny. 

Refola. But I love you, child. 

Dainty. But I ’m not use to it. 


ROMANCIE. 


43 


Refold. To what, my child ? 

Dainty. You don’t know just exactly who I am. 

Refold. You are an angel. 

Dainty. Oh, my gracious ! No ! 

I am a dirty, little, horrid scamp. 

I sass most everbody like the devil, 

And everbody yells, “ Get out ! ” “Begone ! ” 

“You wench ! ” “ You little Hell-cat ! ” I do n’t care. 

I do this way to them : ( She makes a horrible leer. ) 

And Pop-eyed Pete, I whacked him in the eye 
With a tomato, ’cause he called me names. 

I do n’t love anybody but my mamma, 

And she just cries and cries because I ’m naughty. 

Refola. Who is your mamma ? 

Dainty. Mamma Ivano. 

Refola. Oh, husband ! is it barely possible ? 

My lvano ! My Lady Ivano ! 

Who is your papa, child ? 

Dainty. I never had any. 

The boys just say I growed up any way, 

But mamma says I had a real nice papa, 

And says that she will tell me of him some day. 

Refola. O, Ivano ! Unhappy Ivano ! 

Magera. I wonder if there might be good in Hell. 

If she had not accepted secretly 
A loving clasp in an unlawful bed, 

Her bliss that time had never purchased us 
This providential, mad-cap liberator. 

When we are free — and I begin to hope 
That soon we may be — we ’ll reclaim her lost. 

The joy she had that time was not as sweet 
As my joy now is that she tasted it. 

Refola. O, Ivano ! Unhappy Ivano ! 

Will you do something for me, my sweet child ! 

Dainty. You talk so funny. Just say, ‘ ‘ Here ! you wretch I 


44 


RO MANCIE. 


Do this, or that, or something else, or nothing I” 

That is the way you ought to talk to me. 

Refold. But, pretty child, I love you, pretty child ! 
Dainty. You ’re like my mamma, just as much as all. 
Magera. Refola. 

{Refold turns , with white , blanched face , and throws up 
her arms.) 

Ref ola {aside) . Oh ! do not speak my name or we are lost. 
{Aloud.) Will you do something for me, pretty child ? 
Dainty. Do anything but give old Codger to you. 

Refola. How did you come here, sweet ? 

Dainty. The boys all say 

That they just guess I growed up any way. 

Refola. Sweet innocent ! But how did you get in ! 

I mean, how did you get into this place ? 

Dainty. I crawled in at a hole that stunk just awful. 
Refola. Can you get out ? 

Dainty. Eh, heh. 

Refola. And in again ? 

Dainty. Eh, heh; I guess so; yes, of course I can. 

Refola. Will you come back to-morrow, then, and bring 
Me paper and an ink and pen, or pencil ? 

Dainty. Eh, heh. But I can’t write a little Dit. 

My mamma begs me to, and I just try, 

And try, and try, and try, and try, and try, 

About a minute; then I rub it out 
And make the pictures of the butterflies, 

And clouds, and hills, and men, and trees, and houses, 

I can make pictures, and sing lots of songs, 

But I just can’t make A B C’s to suit me. 

Refola. Will you not tell a soul that you were here ? 

Will you not tell you saw us in this place ? 

Dainty. Heh, eh ! 

Refola . Do you pray, child ? 

Dainty. No, I guess not. 

But mamma does, and I kneel down close to her. 


RO MANCIE. 


45 


But I can’t see God when she talks to him; 

I like a God who talks back to a feller. 

Refold. Will you lift up your hand and swear that you 
Will never tell these things I asked you not to? 

Dainty. Why, are you ’fraid that Dainty will tell lies ? 
Refold (crying). Forgive me, angel child. 

Dainty. Why yes, of course — 

Refold. No, no, child; you won’t tell; you won’t forget. 
You ’ll run, and romp, and play — just as you always did; 
You never will let anybody know 
A single little thing about to-day. 

And then to-morrow you will slip away 

And bring me paper and an ink and pen, or pencil ? 

Dainty. Eh, heh. I ’ll just tell Codger — he ’s my dog — 
But I will whisper it like this to him. 

(She reaches through the bars , puts her arm around Re~ 
fold’s neck, and whispers in her ear.) 

Refola. Keep your arms so. O, husband ! it is bliss ! 
Could you get in here, child ? 

Dainty. No, I guess not. 

I go ’most every place and everywhere, 

But I can’t go through here. How did you do it ? 

You must have been put in when you were dolls, 

And growed up like two ’taters in a bottle. 

But ’way up yonder is another hole; 

I ’ll try to find where it goes out at. May be 
I can squeeze through it. Let me go and see. 

(She is gone some time , but finally comes to the opening.) 
Refola. Can you get through ? 

Dainty. I don’t know, I will see. 

(She slides her legs through to her hips.) 

Magera. Be careful, child. 

Dainty. Well, you just don’t look up. 

(She wriggles back up again.) 

My laigs are awful big and fat for girl’s laigs. 

But when I come again I’ll bring a clothes line, 


RO MANCIE. 


46 

And I ’ll be sure to squeeze myself through some way. 
If you will keep your hands on that man’s eyes 
I ’ll take my dress and pants off when I come, 

And then I know I can get through it easily. 

My mamma could get through. My laigs are bigger 
Than mamma’s laigs. My garters just drop off 
Of her laigs when she puts them on herself. 

And I wear bigger pants than mamma does. 

One doggoned, nasty, mean boy calls me fat rump. 

But good bye, I must go. I will come back. 

Magera. God ought to be the father of that child 


FOURTH SCENE. 

Another cell in TJndezerne palace dungeon. Terrol sitting 
with head bowed in his hands. 

Terrol. The days are long and dark; the world is dreary, 
The very heavens have withdrawn far off 
As though to shine upon another sphere. 

I am alone; I ’m horribly alone. 

If you would conjure up a hell of horrors, 

Conceive it as a vast, drear solitude; 

Let your imagination people it with void, 

With gloom, with emptiness, with formless nothing, 

Filled only by your solitary soul. 

It is too horrible for contemplation. 

Years have rolled on; I still pace to and fro; 

No voice but from the echoes of these walls 
With tongues to re-assert my awful woe. 

No face to look upon me, and no form {Despair rises.) 
Beside me but Despair’s gaunt form and face. 

There he sits, now; eye bent upon the ground, 

And bony form crouched on the dismal stones. 

Mark how his few coarse strands of haggard hair 
Attempt to clothe his shivering, naked form. 


RO MANCIE. 


47 


Yet even he would be a jovial comrade, 

If with a human’s sweet articulation 

He could discourse communion with the sounds. 

But he has only one despairing tone, 

And speaks just one dread, doleful word, his name. 
“Despair,” he croaks. Oh, horrible Despair! 

Hope once did spread her pinions in my cell, 

And smiled and pointed upward. But no more ! 

No more ! Out, hellish shape ! O Hope, return ! 

{Fairy Hope floats down , speaks and vanishes.') 

Hope. As constant Terrol is, so Ivano. {Despair sinks.) 
Terrol. The possibility of truth in that 
Is buoy to sinking hopes through half an age. 

As like a palm tree in the frozen north, 

Wrenched from the south and planted in the snows, 

Would joy if the pregnating sun should come 
And take its station by the polar star, 

So would renewing life course in my veins 
If I could give full credence to the hope, 

“As constant Terrol is, so Ivano,” 

The blessed being said, and disappeared, 

As the fair rainbow when the sun goes down. 

Execrable and damned malignant fiend ! 

You lied most foully when you swore to me 
That Ivano forgot me and you wedded. 

Soft, now, and let me think. Sweet Ivano ! 

We loved each other, and our frowning fortunes 

Forbade our union, but we overstepped 

The obstacle of poverty by vows 

Made secretly that evening in the chapel 

That seems now as a shrine to my remembrance. 

But in the night that followed that sweet day, 

Our wedding day, as in our nuptial bed 
We lay in melting love’s most dear caresses, 

Bandoska witnessed, and the following day 
Accused my idolized, sweet Ivano 


R OMANCIE. 


48 

Of gross immodesty. She told him then 
Of our kept-secret marriage, and defied him. 

He claimed he loved her, and pretended madness, 
That in her vows she lost herself to him. 

Well, time stole on, and he did feign forgetfulness 
Of us and our concerns; but he did plot 
In that infernal and well-feigned inaction 
A woful wrong, and vengeance on our heads. 

One morning — Oh, how well I mind the day ! — 
The tidings came which told about the burning 
Of that sequestered chapel where we wedded, 

And the foul murder of the aged rector 
That joined us in the presence of two witnesses, 
And the most holy presence of sweet Heaven. 
Then Ivano came, with white, troubled face, 

And drew my arm around her dearest form, 

And faltered: “Only God, that man, Bandoska, 
And we know of our closely hidden marriage. 

And if Bandoska should proclaim me ruined — 
And he will hesitate at nothing, love — 

Who would believe the story of my right 
To glory in the burden I am bearing ? ” 

Then on my shoulder hid her blushing face, 

Until I lifted her and kissed an exchange 
Of happy smiles for blushes and confusion. 

The night that followed, as we slept together, 

He and his hirelings in the infamous toil 
Did rush upon us, and me overpowered 
And bore me here. And Ivano ! Oh, God ! 

I know not of her fate. I only hope 
That she escaped the villain’s damned thralldom. 
The only thing that has prolonged this life 
Is the fond hope that she is waiting for me, 

And scorning all the lies that he can tell her 
Concerning my forced absence from her side. 

As for myself, I only ask to die. 


ROMANCIE. 


49 


I look on to the end and hope for nothing. 

When there is no ambition to goad on, 

No pledge deferred for payment in the future, 

No pleasure in the present as it passes, 

No thing but selfish life for selfish ends, 

Why should I live at all ? I want to die. 

Fairy. No thing exists for nothing: every thing 
Fits in the framework of the universe, 

And fills a niche left vacant otherwise. 

Do not despair, but do the best you can; 

And when you can do nothing better — hope. 

If you cannot find any use for self, 

Wait patiently, till the revolving wheels 
Of circumstances find a use for you. 

As you still hallow in your heart the memory 
Of Ivano, so she remembers you. 

Your life rolls to a goal you know not of. 


FIFTH SCENE. 

A little cottage in the country. The home of Ivano and 
Dainty. Ivano enters. 

Ivano. The child stays late this evening. Nothing 
She is as wild as the soft spring-time winds ; [strange. 
She is as sweet as buttercups and daisies ; 

She is as sturdy as the hardy pines ; 

She is as pure as lilies of the valley ; 

But with it all she wears the curious ways 
And speaks the speeches of the ragamuffins 
And wild street urchins she associates with. 

She ’s in child’s paradise : She has no care, 

And she creates more fun than she can laugh at. 

Well, let her be so till her mental powers, 

Her judgment and her sympathies have grown 

Mature enough to know her weeping history. 

—4 




5o 


R0 MANCIE. 


She will believe then in her mother’s virtue 
And love her papa Terrol as I love him. 

{Dainty sings outside.) 

Ain’t I a mashing flirt? Oh, my ! 

Ain’t I a dashing flirt ? Oh, my ! 

I smash the hearts by dozens and by scores, 

They fall before my dancing eye, 

No gallant can my smiles defy ; 

And when to capture them I try 

They yield as prisoners, then die. [ She enters. 

Ain’t I a flashing flirt ? Oh, my ! 

Ain’t I a smashing flirt ? Oh, my ! 

I scatter them as wrecks along the shores. 

(She is carrying a monstrous boquet of boughs and flowers, 
and her head is thrust coquetishly into a coronet of oak leaves. 
Ivano conies forward to kiss her.) 

Ivano. Your subject wants to kiss the sylvan queen. 
Dainty. I think I’ve got a flea; my back just itches. 
Ivano (laughs). There’s no romantic sentiment in you. 
Daintg. No, Pop-eyed Pete says that the devil’s in me. 
Ivano. No, do not mind the boys, the villain wretches ! 
They teach you nothing else but meanness, pet. 

The mean, pestiferous, base reprobates 
Infest each nook and corner of creation. 

The naughty culprits have no business with you. 

You shake them, Dainty ; give them all the go-by. 

Girls have no business with them ; pass them by. 

To note a generation of these boys, 

These sportive harum-scarum imps of Satan, 

One would believe the world in retrogression 
Is sweeping into juvenile hilarity, 

And growing nothing but a playing-ground. 

One looks around and asks, “Whence come the men?” 

Yet, tolerate the boys ; they’re growing up. 

And kings are ’mong them ; mighty bards and authors ; 
Composers, sculptors, artizans and artists ; 


RO MANCIE. 


5 1 


And statesmen, generals, philanthropists, 

Far-seeing diplomats, and orators 

Whose voices yet will thunder doom to tyranny 

And eloquent defence of noble causes. 

Yea, in the ranks of those bare-footed heroes, 

The best, the truest and the noblest men 
March private citizens along the paths 
That point to usefulness, and fame, and glory ; 

And they are made or marred in bringing up. 

But you just let them be, the little wretches ; 

For life to them is nothing but a show, 

And all its characters are grotesque clowns 
And dancing bears, fit only to be laughed at. 

The ludicrous is all they see in life, 

And the eccentric all they contemplate. 

Dainty. The untamed, nasty, little, stinking devils 
And fit-for-nothings are too bad to spit on; 

And I’d just pull an ugly, wrinkled face 
At them and let them go: but I just love them ! 

I ’m into all their deviltry and fun 

Knee deep or deeper. But they shan’t spoil me ! 

(Ivano turns away laughing.') 

Ivano. She never got her irrepressible 
And roguish spirit from me, I am sure; 

She never got it through me from her papa, 

And I can’t think where it did ever come from, 

Unless it was from our stolen, secret happiness. 

Oh ! lawful things should not be done in secret, 

And deeds unlawful not be done at all. 

Dainty. I ’ve thought a lot of times to-day about papa. 
Ivano. Where have you been, child? 

Dainty. Oh, most every place. 

Ivano. You must be hungry; I’ll get you some lunch. 
Dainty. No, I’m not hungry; I came home apast 
The orchards up there, and got lots of fruit. 

I found some melons, too, and squeezed some milk 


5 2 


ROMANCIE. 


Out of an old red cow into my mouth, 

And swallowed it right down. ’T was awful good. 

Ivano. But Dainty, child, you had the same at home. 

Dainty. I know I had, but they were just as sweet ! 

Ivano. They were not yours. 

Dainty. I ’d like to see the feller 

That ’s big enough to take them from me now ! 

Ivano. Sweet model of the race in general ! 

The lovers steal their kisses and believe 
Them sweeter stolen; and the wedding tourists 
Not only steal their kisses, but their blisses, 

To add delicious tart unto the taste; 

And everywhere men will, with greater gust, 

Devour greedily what can be smuggled 
And secretly purloined; yet, at the same time, 

Let their possessions, duplicates, precisely, 

Of what they steal, spoil all unused at home. 

Dainty. I am not hungry, but I ’ll bring you some. 

{She brings a lunch on a server to her mother where she 
sits in the rear of the room. Her mother eats. She sits 
down pensively at the front. Long silence.) 

Dainty. If you had known how bad I would grow up, 

To dabble in the mud and be a mop clout 

You never would have named me “Dainty,” would you ? 

Ivano. I do n’t know, child; too many things are done 
Before the sequel is investigated. 

That is the reason why so many things 

Are put together that will never fit. [mamma ? 

Dainty. You ’re not much pleased with Dainty; are you 

Ivano. My cup of life is sweetened with you, child; 

And you have never ceased to be my pleasure 
Since first when you were dropped into my cup. 

Dainty. I did n’t mean to make you brag on me. 

Ivano. I love you fondly, child. [Long silence. 

Dainty. But I ’m so wild. 

Ivano. And so is the gazelle, and so the fawn; 


ROMANCIE. 


53 


Yet they are clean and innocent as virtue. 

Dainty. I grow right in the mud; I’m always wading — 
Like pipe-stem legged crane — in ooze and slime. 

I never come out of my dirty dresses. 

Except to change for something fresh to spoil 
Or put my lace dress on to go to bed. 

Ivano. The lily germinates in smutty slime, 

But it grows pure — as you are, child, at heart. 

Dainty. I ’m sassy as the feller that has horns. 

Ivano. You ’re loving as the martyr with it all. 

Dainty. I learn the bad words easiest of all. 

Ivano. The room in your breast is all full of heart. 

I ’m pretty well contented with my Dainty; 

I think there is a diamond ’neath this covering 
That hides its crystal heart and beamy ray. 

Dainty. I guess that girls that just grow up any way 
Do n’t stand no chance with girls that have had papas. 

Ivano. I hope they do, child. But you had a papa; 

I had a husband that so made my heart 
To, in his presence, float in dreamy pleasure, 

That the nerve-jarring shock, when he was gone, 

Was horrible to rally and recover from. 

As long as he had lived my life had been 
Romantic love excursions through delight; 

But when of him I was deprived, that night 
Existence then became a fight for life — 

And not alone for life of natural form, 

But struggle for the life of constancy; 

And not alone a battle with fierce Want 
But contest with a strong, unscrupled foe. 

Oh ! with what cold effrontery he lied 
To tear my love from me and carry him 
To doom, whose nature God alone can fathom' 

And then assert, on perjury of oath, 

That he had left me and abandoned me. 

I met, I fought, I conquered: I still live 


54 


ROMANCIE. 


The faithful wife, in firm, unfaltering trust 
Of Terrol. Then you came, the only token 
Preserved to me of Terrol’s love and worship; 

And I do fancy that I could have grown 
A happy mother now, if I could know 
The fate of Terrol. Oh ! he must be dead. 

Yet wish — the father — fills up trust — the mother — 

With hope — the child — that he still lives, all mine. 

And but for one hard-favored, palsying thought 
I could brush off my grief in happiness: 

That thought is, that my Dainty can’t establish 
Her mother’s innocence of that dark guilt 
That makes the child to suffer with its mother 
The punishment of that crime that it lives. 

Dainty. Do n’t, mamma Ivano; do n’t do that way, 

Or you will make me wish I ’d been a boy. 

Where is old Codger? [ She whistles for the dog. 

{Codger runs to her and she takes him by the tail and kicks 
him out the door.) 

Dainty. I did n’t want him, mamma. I just wanted 
To do something, and thought I ’d whistle him. 

{Ivano sits abstracted , gazing from the window. Dainty 
fidgets in her chair, and says: ) 

Humph ! Umph ! 

( She waits, her mother heeds not, and she says:) 
Humph ! U mph ! 

( She waits, looks at her mother intently, and says:) 
Humph! Umph! Humph! Umph! {Codger looks in.) 
You sleepy-eyed old devil ! 

Ivano. Why, my child ! 

Dainty. There are good men and bad, and I am one. 
Ivano. There are men who, like mountains that do pierce 
Into the regions of perpetual snows, 

Do tower to the heights of excellence 
And magn infinity; and as those mountains 
Wear snow crowns in the elevated air, 


RO MANCIE. 


55 


So are they crowned with the clean crowns of honor. 

But there are others so sunk in depravity 
That, like the beds of ocean, they essay 
To pierce as nearly to volcanic Hell 
As they can go without eruptions following. 

( Ivano again becomes abstracted. Dainty gets Tier doll and 
sits down on the floor by Codger. Codger sits looking lazily 
on Tier games. She places the doll in a chair and begins to 
draw a picture on the floor. An elf enters and kicks the 
doll off on the floor. Dainty glares at Codger a long time.) 
Dainty. You ugly, crooked-legged, cross-eyed devil ! 
Ivano. Dainty ! Dainty ! Use more dainty words. 
Dainty. Come here, old Codger, let me whisper you: 

I know something that I do n’t dare to tell. 

I promised that I would n’t tell nobody 

But you in whisper words. Now do n’t you tell. 

I crawled in at a hole that stunk just awful; 

I found some people in the queerest house — ■ 

All dark and damp. I couldn’t live a week. 

( Ivano begins to notice the strange actions of the child.) 
How would you like a house all made of stone ? 

No doors or windows but a little hole 

Up in the top, and then another one 

With iron bars across ? Why do n’t you answer ? 

( She boxes his ear. He acknowledges with a lazy wink.) 
I’m going back to-morrow with a clothes-line, 

And take some tools to write with. Do n’t you tell. 

( She shakes her finger at him.) 

Do n’t you tell, sir; I warn you not to tell; 

Do n’t even whisper — not a wink or nod. [ matter 

Ivano {aside). She reasons with the dog as though some 
Portending some great moment to the state 
Was in debate between them. Mark her now. 

Dainty. She was a most sweet lady as you are, 

And called me more sweet names than you could think of. 
He said “ Refola.” She threw up her hands 


ROMANCIE. 


56 

As though to save herself from something falling, 

And in a voice all pale and quivering, 

“Oh, do not speak my name or we are lost !” 

( She acts in pantomime Ref Ola's part in the cell.) 

And now, old sleepy-head, what do you think ? 

Ivano {aside). Is she predestined to be2ome an actress. 
And catch the approbation and applause 
Of all the generation with her playing ? 

For sure she imitates the frenzied part 
Of troubled spirit in her pantomimes. 

In her imagination something moves 
And shapes her gestures to its hidden form. 

Is it some strange original conception? 

Some complication wrought up in her fancies? 

Or does she imp a pose that she has witnessed ? 

Mark ! now she meditates upon some fancy 
That troubles all her seeming. Her lips move. 

She is not well. Somewhere within her organs 
The physical machinery is faulted, 

And nature, in the process of repair, 

Destroys placidity of mental organism. 

{Dainty forgets herself and speaks aloud.) [lost.” 
Dainty. “ Refola ! ” “ Oh ! speak not my name or we are 

Ivano. O Dainty, what is this ? What do you know ? 
Refola ! Where heard you Refola’s name, 

And saw the bare pronunciation of it 

Succeeded by this passionate gesticulation 

And plea in horrified ejaculation? [to bed. 

Dainty {startled). Put out the light, sweet mamma; let’s 
Don’t question me a single question, please, 

For I’ll be spanked before I’ll answer you. 

You wooly- headed devil ! get from here I {Kicks Codger.) 


RO MANCIE. 


57 


THIRD ACT. 


FIRST SCENE. 

Golda palace. Romancie’s bedchamber. Romancie sleep- 
ing. Bandoska and Mocero enter. 

Bandoska. Cushion your tread and muffle soft your voice. 
Rape moving sight! Doom threatening protection 
Of awe and adoration force compelled ! 

I ’d rather charge the barricaded fortress 
Of life-trained soldiers guarding the ingress 
Of native city and parental home, 

Than stare the visages of purity, 

Of maiden innocence and virgin sweetness, 

And bolt the arms of awe, solemnity, 

And reverence, and brutally essay 
The citadel of honor in a girl. 

Mocero. Yea, certainly; for he who yields to lust 
Does lose the spirit of man; becomes a brute; 

And quails before the huge superiority 
Of human excellence in her he tries. 

The deep, majestic gaze of human eye 
Can quell the tiger’s ravening thirst for gore, 

And the more beastly carnal keenness 
That dares to cope with chastity by force. 

Bandoska. Hence rapes are rare. 

Mocero. But ruins plentiful; 

Yea, woeful in abundance in the land. 

For castles that are under the protection 

Of customs of society and all 

The guards of public thinking and opinion, 

And which in their own strength could stand successfully 
Against the forces that do pant to conquer, 


ROMANCIE. 


58 

Are privily set open to the blandishment 
Of soft seduction and the terms of flattery. 

Bandoska. ’ Twill be an easy task to enter here 
And clear our course of this sweet obstacle. 

Mocero. To be admitted to this fairy chamber 
By the intentionally tantalizing 
Slow fingers of her love were bliss indeed. 

Bandoska. Yea, if a God did license entrance here, 

And if the law smiled on it legally 
By virtue of the marital relations, 

And if she then did blushingly but softly 
Admit him, ’twere admittance into Heaven. 

Mocero. To be in that soft bed and clasp her form 
In that light snowy covering it wears; 

To kiss those ruddy lips and taste that body, 

Were to be dipped in such a stew of luxury 
As melts a mortal’s frame to raptured feeling. 

Bandoska. Bing off ! ring off ! it might be bought for love, 
But sold for other fee it undersells 
Its great intrinsic value ruinously. 

Mocero. The gem that can’t be bought may oft be stolen. 
Bandoska. What color has your meaning ? 

Mocero. Why, we rob 

That casket there of one gem, why not two ? 

Bandoska. Give fatter form to what your thought is of. 
Mocero. There lies unkissed in that pure, downy bed, 

A casket, that so far eclipses skill 
In cabinet makers of the royal corps, 

Their work is no more to be parallelled 
Along with it than is the school-room globe 
With that earth it does strive to symbolize. 

That casket only holds a pair of gems, 

But they might ransom souls doomed down to hell: 

Those jewels are life and virginity. 

We take the one, and why not take the other ? 

Bandoska. ’T is too much like to lecher with the grave. 


ROMANCIE. 


59 


Mocero. Why, it adds cruelty to injury 
To take her life before her body tastes 
The joy of such bestowal of its pair gem 
As ’t is the aim of maiden’s life to make. 

Bandoska. Think you she would enjoy it? 

Mocero. Marvelously. 

Bandoska. Nor feel her pleasure passing as but pain ? 
Mocero. Why, no. 

Bandoska. Nor grieve? 

Mocero. Smile, rather. 

Bandoska. Then we ’ll do it; 

Despoil the casket first, and then destroy it. 

Mocero. Let’s steal back to our chamber yet a time; 

In muffling her sweet voice it might escape 
In some faint cry that would arouse the servants 
And set the rabble of Ottendook on us. 

We’ve tasted of their diet; I’ll no more of it. 

Bandoska. We must not tarry long. See through the pane 
Where yonder moon ascends the evening sky 
And pours her yellow liquid light around us. 

The ship is ready rigged, and but this job 
Is twixt us and the inception of our voyage. 

Go, now, but soon return. Full many a man, 

In prosecuting conquests foreignly 
Has lingered till his home empire decayed. 

( They pass out. The sprites enter.) 

Sprite. I have sat on a sulphur-heated wind, 

Above a battle field, and seen two armies 
Shock, crash and splinter into utter ruin, 

And pour out gore and human lives so lavish, 

In horrid rage and reeking butchery, 

That men did seem of no more consequence 
Than vermin scalded in the house wife’s traps; 

And yet this rage, so emulating fury 
And gorging armies in the jaws of death, 

Was not so horrible in any view 


6 o 


RO MANCIE. 


As this dark villain’s calm, cold calculation. 

I can forgive harsh deeds not done in malice, 

Or studied vengeance, or fore-thoughted purpose; 

But evil shuts the heart and eyes of mercy 
When it so wantons with compassion’s soul. 

Sprite. Well, do not stand on moralizing speeches 
Till lust has worked its purpose with the maid, 

And guile has sacrificed another victim; 

Devise a plau to save the girl Romancie. 

Sprite. I’ll tell you my device. We’ll intimate 
A ramble in the moonlight to the maid, 

Then I will take her place there in the bed, 

And when they seize me as though they would gag me 
Do you create some sound against the wall, 

Some noise to frighten them, and when they seize 
Me up to carry me away to murder, 

Dart on the stage a sheeted blaze of light 
Intense as if the cannon of the clouds 
Had shot the missiles of the storms of heaven 
In one sky-draining volley from the zenith. 

Then follow that with darkness of such body 
And substance it will seem that all the light 
Had spent itself in that illumination. 

Just in the midst of the astonishment 
And gloom I will transform into a cat 
And caterwaul and claw most viciously. 

Make ready all arrangements ; Hasten ! speed I 
And first of all, I pray you, summon me 
A dream, and let it be a dream like this : 

Let it be so deformed in ugliness 
That to the sight ’t will be abominable. 

I ’d have it made uncanny as a coffin 
Untrimmed. Let it be made replete with horrors, 

And formed to stir disgust and dread as well. 

Let not its nostrils breathe the flaky flames, 

Nor jaws ajar spew out the brimstone tongues ; 


RO MANCIE. 


6 1 


But rather let it with a devilish stare 
Charm with mesmeric eye the lovely sleeper 
And make her visions to assume its shape. 

Sprite ( extending wand vertically). From the waste realms 
of shades let hither come 
A heathen dream, the most execrable 
Of those who arm them with mind agonies 
To hover on the bosom of some hell-doomed, 

To torture, in a sleep that even fire, 

As fire soars fed with avenging bellows 
Of wrath all powerful, cannot prevent, 

The crushing spirit sleeping in its pain. 

Come and make service to your ordering 

This maiden sleeping here. Oh, heed ! oh come ! 

The wand revolves around its fastening, 

The fulcrum of my hand. The dream is coming ! 

Conceal yourself at once, lest she awake 
In sudden start affrighted by the dream 
And find us by her side. Conceal yourself. 

( They hide. The dream , a grisly , ghoulish monster hovers 
above the headboard and slowly flaps broad leathery vampire 
wings above Romancie. She moves uneasily. She writhes 
and extends her arms.) 

Romancie. Fly ! fly ! oh, fly from hell ! Oh God, awake ! 
{She springs out upon the floor. The dream vanishes.) 
O-o-o-o-oh ! If I scream my fear will kill me. 

My breast heaves to send up a deadly shriek. 

Let not the curtains stir, the foliage rustle, 

Or any motion move itself around me 

Or I will perish. Dreadful, dreadful dream ! 

I saw the city of Heaven, and God was sleeping ; 

I saw the hall of Hell, and Satan watchful, 

Alert, and busy shackling souls in torment ; 

I saw my papa Golda ; he was dying. 

I saw his spirit rend its mortal bars, 

And, like a captive whose long term is ended, 


62 


ROMANCIE. 


Bound toward the haven of its aspirations ; 

Then from the four broad hinges of the world 
Converging ranks of fiends shook out the chains 
Of manacles and swept in hosts along 
While cohorts sprang up toward the empyrean 
To guard the vague aerial avenues. 

But the angelic hosts fell from the battlements, 

And joined in space in battle with the fiends. 

The arms were lightning and eruptive compounds, 

And bellowing thunder shattered earth and air 
And froze in ice the seas and shattered them, 

And heaven’s arch from shoulder shook to keystone. 

I was an atom in the awful havoc, 

And knew not that I was until I woke. 

I was no being, but capacity 
To witness the wild, universal war. 

But, then old Satan to the struggle came; 

A power surging through the universe, 

On planets planting feet and on the stars. 

I shuddered in the horrors of despair, 

For I perceived that nothing could resist him 
But God — and he still slept. Then I did cry, 

“Fly ! fly ! oh, fly from hell ! Oh God, awake !” 

And I awoke, and I am sick with terror. 

Sweet Norna, I could sleep in your loved arms. • 

{8 he goes back to bed ; the dre am appears again ; she 
throics her arms wildly, and bounds upon the floor.) [dead 

Romancie . I ’m fainting with my fear. My nerves are 
With shocks they have received in these wild dreams. 

Oh ! but it was too dreadful to behold. 

The ocean was before me, in a tempest 
It foamed into the skies. The shrieking winds 
And fierce waves smote upon a gallant vessel, 

Upon whose deck my darling Norna stood 
So calm I thought he might have quelled the storm. 

Just as they rode the summit of a billow, 


RO MANCIE. 


63 


A man like one of those who came here yesterday 
Seized him, and hurled him down into a depth 
So deep he fell beneath my strained, wild eye. 

Then in the storm a mighty arm appeared — 

I thought, to save him — but it only doomed 
The murderers, then melted in the sky. 

I am afrain to go to bed again, 

But more afraid to keep the watch alone. 

{She goes to bed and sleeps ; a dream like an angel comes. 
She walks and talks in her dreams.) [drowned. 

Romancie. Sweet Norna ! They told me you had been 
Oh ! what a joy it was when you came home ! 

You squeezed me and caressed me lovingly; 

And now I ’m going to press my arms around you 
And kiss you, but you never must remember it 
When I have told you something — will you, Norna? 

{She goes through motions of clasping him , and stands 
upon tip-toe and kisses the air.) 

Romancie. What did you say ? I did n’t understand. 

My dress ? Oh, I forgot. I had been dreaming, 

And was so frightened I walked in the night 
Without my dress on; but you ’ll not remember it 
When I have told you something — will you, Norna? 

Put both your arms around me; squeeze me closer, 

And stoop a little lower and I ’ll kiss you. 

{She reaches up, kisses a loud, ringing kiss that rouses her 
from sleep: she gazes round, realizes where she is, and sinks 
down upon the floor.) 

Romancie. The dreams before were cruel, but I find 
It better to awaken from bad dreams 
To sweet reality than from sweet dreams 
To something worse than woe. My happy dream 1 
I cannot sleep again; I ’ll go outside. 

( She steps out through the deep low window. The sprite 
gets into her bed; Bandoska and Mocero enter; they steal to 
the bedside; Mocero throws a muff around the fairy’s head; 


ROMANCIE. 


64 

the dream rises and sinks ; the other sprite raps on the wall; 
they take the sprite up, struggling between them, and start 
away; fearfully vivid light, then darkness.) 

Sprite. Meow ! Meow ! Meow ! Meow ! Meow ! Meow ! 
Bandoska. In Hell’s name ! Tom-cat damned ! 

Mocero. Fly ! Hell is here ! [ in air.) 

Your sorcery can ’t avail. Take that ! and that ! ( Thrusts 


SECOND SCENE. 

A farm house. Norna enters. The dog bays him sav- 
agely. 

Noma. Get out ! get out ! sharp sentinel ! bay thieves; 
Let honest men pursue their ways in peace. 

Yet ’t is unjust rebuke — he does his duty; 

And they who do their duty do n’t respect 
One comer more than others. And ’t is just; 

For let all comers open their credentials, 

Or strip the covering from their good intentions, 

And so denude an honest, open passport. 

Hello ! Ye sleepers, lift your heavy lids, 

And turn the cranky shutter on a stranger 
On an impatient errand at your door. 

( A window above opens. A head protrudes.) 
Farmer. Hello 1 

Norna. Good tiller of the soil, come down ! 

Farmer. What ’s wanted ? 

Noma. You are. 

Farmer's wife. God have mercy on us ! 

We ’re murdered, all of us. The banditti 
Environ our abode. They ’ll burn the house. 

Look underneath the bed. Oh, the freebooters ! 

The covered-visaged thugs — 

Norna. Cease, woman, cease ! 

My purpose is as white as your night-cap. 


ROMANCIE. 


6 5 

( Aside). A doubtful metaphor in country sides. [pads ! 

Farmer's wife. The brigands ! Oh, the crimson-handed 
To think that we should, at this time of life, 

Become the prey of murderous, spoiling brigands. 

The ruddy-handed brigands ! Oh, the brigands I 
Give him the purse and chicken-feed contained, 

And tell him by the gods ! we have no more. 

Do n’t tell him of the trove beneath the hearthstone; 

Do n’t speak of that jug buried in the orchard. [ main 
Farmer. Hist ! Hist ! Screw down the stop-cock of the 
That irrigates your mouth with many words. 

Noma. Come down, good farmer, and attend an instant. 
1 am benighted, and do lose my way. 

I grope me forward in uncertainty, 

And know not whether I do retrograde 
Or make a headwise to my destination. 

Come down at once, I pray you, and direct me. 

I am the son of the good Duke of Gold a. 

I will reward you amply for your pains 
If you will hasten to descend to me. 

Farmer's wife. The old trick to decoy you to the door. 

Do n’t go, for life’s sake ! ’T is a band of brigands. 

Oh, woe ’s the night ! Oh, woe ’s the luckless night I 
Iiave at the rogues with endless raillery; 

Ape big bravado, as though at your heels 
You had a regiment to fight for us; 

Curse them most roundly. Open mouth or die ! 

Assume assurance born of perfect safety, 

And damn them with such big. explosive damns 
That they will fly, and, flying, fear their silhouettes. 

Farmer. Be still ! be still ! be still ! ’ Tis Norna Golda. 
A fine young man, beyond a dubious thought. 

Be still ! before your lightning passing tongue 
Buys for your speech notorious contempt. 

Noma. My father, sir, is dying in my absence. 

Come down ! come down ! Delay no further parley. 

-5 


66 


RO MANCIE. 


{After a period of waiting, the farmer comes out.) 
Farmer. I know you, gentleman, there is my hand. 
Norna. Most glad am I for this swift recognition. 
Farmer's wife. I guess I am mistaken for this once. 
But I will take a warning from this time, 

And guard against such dangers in the future. 
Forewarned is fortified. I will prepare 
The raids of robbers on my home to dare, 

And secret enemy or open foe 

Shall ne’er strike us an unexpected blow. 

Eternal vigilance alone can save 
Endangered mortals from some dreadful grave. 

Norna. I yester mom received intelligence 
That my dear father had received such injuries 
As would ere long make period of his life. 

As I sped home along an ocean route, 

A villainous attempt against my life 
Dropped me down from the deck into the waves. 

Let me not stop for bootless explanations, 

But satisfy the needs by simply saying 
That I was saved and brought upon the shore 
By providential aid, sent down by Heaven. 

But when I drifted to the welcome shore, 

My battle with the sea had so far spent 
My animation and drained out my force, 

That my volition could not shake off sleep. 

So in despite of desperate resolution, 

My fortitude broke down and I did sleep. 

Now, sir, where am I ? and which is the route 
That will most shortly bring me to my home? 

Farmer. God’s pity ! Will the international law 
Not punish crimes upon the lofty seas ? 

May merchantmen and navies bolt to piracy ? 

May crews and captains turn their murderous hands 
Against the passengers that tread their decks ? 

And will the condign punishment be slow 


ROMANCIE. 


67 


To overtake them ? God have mercy on us ! 

Weak is the policy and woe the pity 
That lets a citizen of any state 
Feel less security upon the seas 
Than in the capital city of his land. 

Noma. Break off, I pray you, and direct me home. 
Farmer. How mighty is the faith a mortal feels 
In a just individual God of Heaven, 

When he, beyond the reach of mortal aid, 

Is saved as you were from the storm tossed seas. 

Noma. Which is the way, sir? Will you hire to me 
A horse, the swiftest that stalls in your stables, 

To bear me home ? Direct me on my way. 

Farmer. Alas ! The noble duke of Golda place ! 
Called by that trump that summons for us all. 

Sent to a settlement with the great Auditor 
Of earthly trafficing and its accounts. 

A noble man, and one to be remembered 
For fair donation to the funds of charity, 

And public actions worth the hand of man. 

Noma. Which is the way ? I interrupt you, sir. 
Which is my course ? Don’t fail to point it out. 

Farmer. Excuse me, gentle youth. This is your path. 
Along this road due west you guide yourself. 

Unto the cross-roads then keep straight ahead 
Until you cross Swan creek and top a hill 
Two miles beyond, in a due westward way. 

You then pierce through a belt of timber land, 

And turn diagonally on a plain. 

Select a star, then, on your right hand temple, 

And by direction canter o’er the plain. 

A ride of half a dozen miles will bring 
You to a farm house on your either hand. 

Bide through between them, and go dead ahead. 

Bein in along the foothills of the mountains, 

And search you out the road that borders them. 


68 


ROMANCIE. 


Then take the left extension of that road, 

And travel it until another road 

Cuts off more nearly in your home direction. 

Keep persevering forward — 

Noma. I will risk 

Discovering my way across the earth, 

And have not half such fear of losing it 
As I would feel in trying to thread through 
The deep, inexplicable labyrinth 
Of these directions you have given me. 

Will you sell me a horse, or rent one to me ? 

Come to the point at once, and answer me. 

Farmer. That is the point, sir — excellent advice. 

You ’ll make a noble father to some boy. 

You ’ll grow him up in excellent advice; 

And good advice, if followed, makes a man. 

I always tell my boys, Talk to the point ! 

Stop not till it is reached; for if you do, 

The point, unfinished, bears a head-like bluntness 
That makes it worth as much as none at all. 

But if you talk too long upon the point, 

You wear it off to dullness, and that spoils it. 

Talk till you make a point; stop when ’t is made; 

For this, done properly, creates it capable 
Of piercing through resistance to the heart 
Of any matter that is under question. 

Noma. If you would practice where your preaching points, 
Your practice might not mar your preaching’s point, 

For preaching should point to a purer practice. 

But when the practice of the preacher points 
To sin, his practice mars the point of preaching, 

For practice preaches preaching to the point. 

Now, sir, you preach to talk unto the point, 

But go so much amiss to practice it 

That I ’m constrained to curse you damnably. 

Therefore your preaching is of none avail, 


RO MANCIE. 


69 


Its efficacy being marred by practice. 

The preacher who by practice also preaches 
As well as by precept, wields potent power. 

Will you sell me a horse ? Reply me fairly. 

Slide not around the point; reply me fairly. 

Make no circumlocution; cut directly 
Into the vitals of the awaiting issue 
By saying “yes” or “no.” Reply me fairly. 

Farmer. Why, yes, I ’ll sell a horse, or loan you one. 
There ’s Dolt — a frisky jade as ever man 
Bestrode astraddle. Then there ’s Pansylea, 
Accounted worthy to bound with the car 
Some angel drives down the campaign of Heaven. 

Old Badi is a trusty, gentle gelding, 

But built for heavy draft, and not for racing. 

The filly Sese, in the nearest stall, 

Is fleet of foot as antelope or hare, 

But she sits roughly as a bucking nightmare. 

She jolts most horribly. She ’d shake your liver 
Two lobes above your lungs in half a mile; 

Your heart would beat its ribby bars to peril, 

And your firm teeth would rattle in your jaws. 

A rubber man would soon be crystalized, 

And his elastic skull would soon be fractured. 

I would not recommend her, sir, for comfort. 

My stallion, Firefly, is a daisy, sir; 

Fleet footed, nimble, and of sterling mettle; 

He covers ground as eagerly as mares; 

His wondrous strength, great bottom and high spirit 
Do highly recommend him for the road; 

But he has one most grievous failing, sir — 

He goes most freely where his choice does lead him, 
But if you force him ’gainst his inclinations 
He ’ll set one foot on each point of the compass 
And like a chiseled statue of contrariness 
He stubbornly will stand against the pricks 


RO MANCIE. 


70 

Of voice and spur and infinite persuasion. 

He is all right — 

Noma . There is my purse of gold, 

Get you to bed; I will select an animal 
That suits my purpose, and be gone with him. 

If this amount of gold is not sufficient, 

Send up to-morrow and I ’ll pay you more. 

Good night; get you to bed. {Aside.) And may the gods 
Mark out a plainer road to heaven for you 
Than you map for my guidance to my home: 

And pray the keeper of the golden gates 
Won’t parley with you, as you pelt at me. 

Farmer. Good night, sir, heaven speed you on your way. 
Duke Golda dying; Noma overboard; 

Death in the air; foul practice on the sea — 

Strange work indeed. And but for his impatience, 

That would not listen to a single word, 

I would have questioned him. Such is the world: 

A surface over which the shifting scenes 
Of generations are drawn on by fate — 

’T is wonderful when you consider it, 

How it assumes the semblance of the mood 
The man is in that stands a gazing at it I 
And is sublime and clownish in an hour. 


THIRD SCENE. 

The dungeon cell wherein Magera and Refola are im- 
prisoned. 

Magera. Incarcerated here, our plight is piteous 
As those who have their freedom in the world 
But whose poor eyes are blind to light forever. 

Men living lost to liberty are blind, 

Are deaf, are dumb, and have no human semblance, 

No attributes of man, no mortal being, 


RO MANCIE. 


7 1 

But soul shut in and heart to suffer grief 

For what huge wrongs of men have taken from them. 

Refold. We are not so much to be pitied, husband, 

As those who have the eyes of their dear souls 
Made blind by selfishness or avarice; 

For selfishness and avarice are gaolers 

That chain the hearts of men in dungeon gloom, 

Starve the affections, and disease the sympathies 
So they grow sick and die. Oh ! the great soul — 

The image of the Infinite — the boundless, 

The great, sublime faculties and deep passions 
Lose all the essence of their magnanimity 
When selfishness exerts abhorred dominion. 

Crushed by the cruel monster, selfishness, 

All that is good in man is closely wedged 
Into the narrow, rayless cell of self. 

But, husband, we, though we are prisoners, 

Are free in heart, in sympathies and soul. 

We may gain fortitude from misery, 

Sound wisdom from this harsh experience, 

And learn from living here a tender sense 
Of sympathy we else had never known. 

A noble nature always finds a means 
To profit from the horriblest calamities ; 

And to the hero born a falling world 
May be the force that he will utilize 
To lift himself into his destiny. 

The devils turn all actions into evil ; 

But men, if they be men as God created them, 

Will some good deed accomplish, even from evil. 

We are in ruin now, but we still live ; 

And while the breath of life dilates the nostrils 
Hope is a goad that spurs the soul to effort. 

What hidden agency in our affairs 

Brought that child of the woods, sweet little Dainty, 

Into our cell ? Chance, fate, fortune, or destiny ? 


RO MANCIE. 


72 

Magera. You tell ; I know not. Luck, or accident, 
Perhaps beguiled her in ; or else an angel. 

Refold. We are the eyes in a mysterious world, 

A world half mystery, half miracle. 

We do but watch the motion of the times ; 

Events and circumstances roll along 

And bear us with them. Complications form 

And are dispelled ; relations are created 

And severed ; plans are formed and fail or finish, 

And we cannot explain why one or other; 

A million combinations make themselves 
And pass as strangely into dissolution ; 

Hopes bloom and are dispelled ; and all around us 
Are queer, inexplicable happenings 
That do"affect us and concern us closely 
But yield not to our reason and control. 

These are eifects produced by hidden causes 
Not understood by men, and so explained 
By simply saying they are not explainable. 

Men know themselves to be the dwarfish pigmies 
Within the grasp of these most wondrous agencies, 

And men do name them many senseless names : 

Fate, destiny, doom, fortune, chance, and luck, 

Are some among the terms to them applied, 

But they are all misnomers ; there exist 
No such grim tyrants over the free will 
Of men. These happenings so wonderful 
Are the inevitable consummations 
Of infinite capacity in action. 

They are the operations of the mind 
Of Deity. They are the deeds of God. 

And this great universe is nothing less, 

With all its complications of machinery, 

With all its delicacy of mechanism, 

With all its vast conceptions and perfection 
Of minute details, than the mighty engines 


ROMAN C/E. 


Moved by the mind of the creator, God. 

Magera. Then he that is the fayorite of fortune 
Is more ; he is the favorite of God ? 

Refold. It must be so. 

Magera. And he that fortune frowns on 

Has by some means incurred the wrath of God ? 

And God, not fortune, dooms us to this woe ? 

Refold. My love, our finite minds can never fathom 
The depth of God’s dread purposes with us. 

We must remember that God is all good, 

All powerful, all wise, and all in all. 

Then we will know that he works out his plans, 

And we, his creatures, are his instruments. 

And if we bear in mind continually 

That this is a probationary state 

Wherein he tests us with most rigorous tests, 

And that this life is a preliminary 
To an eternity, eternal, endless, 

We can endure with patience to be tried, 

Though in the trial suffering tries the soul. 

Magera. Yes, but the earth has seen ungodly men 
So grasp the opportunities and lines 
As to control the world. Did God ordain it? 

Refola. Men can no more succeed ungodpermittedv 
Than they can dominate the thrones of Heaven. 

And they do not succeed who do not good. 

I hold it better to have lived a life 
Of usefulness, than to have conquered worlds; 

And better to have benefitted man • 

Than to have won renown, praise, fame or glory. 

Magera. Well, I’m consoled to think that our condition 
Cannot grow worse. We’re at the base of fortune. 

Her wheel is turning on our prostrate forms. 

She stands upon our necks and lavishly 
Deals out her gifts to others, while the weight 
Of all she gives weighs us against the ground. 


ROMANCIE. 


74 

Refold. Please do not let despondency so gain 
Ascendancy in your reflections, husband. 

Your hopes when Dainty came so flew with you 
Above the surface of your seas of woes, 

That when you fell you plunged into its depths. 
Cheer up, good love, she will come here again. 

Magera. Can that cold blooded villain ever pause 
To gaze upon the rolling waves of time 
As they come bubbling, foaming, seething on ? 

Can any man keep his eyes on the future 
And wrong his fellow man ? Oh ! that all men 
Would sometimes pause upon the shore of time, 

And gaze across the cloud-gloomed sea of future ! 
How many crimes had never been completed ! 

How many loving hearts had not been broken ! 

How many tears had never flowed in woe ! 

If men had paused till mercy could have pleaded, 
And pity could have praised the name of justice. 

If each man knew that from some distant star 
Some bomb, some missile or some thunderbolt 
Was launched to strike his body in the tomb 
And send his soul before his righteous God, 

How peaceful would the nations of men be ! 

Where then could be the lures to tyranny ? 

Or the promoters of that fierce ambition 
Or power, pelf or spoils, that could induce 
States to encounter states in raining bloodshed, 

If that approaching bolt of doom did hurry 
Through spaoe to crush the victor in his glory ? 

Oh ! If that missile winged its airy way, 

Some men would not hold in their hands the riches 
Of half the earth, while numbers suffered want. 

For they who have would give to those who have not. 
And in the alleviation of great pain 
Find happiness and hope for the beyond. 

All evil passions would grow faint and die, 


RO MANCIE. 


75 


Because their very ends would have expired. 

For where is he that would make lust his law 
If, in the satisfaction of his lust, 

Death overtook him and deprived him of it, 

The parents, then, would in parental love 
So cultivate sweet kindness to the child 
That, if the end transferred the child from home 
To heaven, he would only be as one 
That goes from one delight unto another. 

The children, then, would honor and obey 
The parents in submission, kind and loving. 

Wives would make it the study of their lives 

To joy their husbands as their husbands cherished them; 

And everywhere good will and peace would reign. 

Then would be heard no wrongs cry for redression; 

No hearts be seen to bleed at injury; 

No murder bleed; no robbery maraud; 

No perjury falseswear; no lie misstate; 

No bribe suborn or buy; no threat constrain; 

No fornication sully innocence, 

Adultery destroy white chastity; 

No anger burn, or rage arise to madness. 

But all humanity would be a brotherhood, 

In unity of kindness, trust and love. 

Each man would fear to wrong his fellowman, 

And dread still more to grieve one that he loved, 

Lest when the wrong was done or grief created, 

That thunderbolt sweep from the death-draped sky 
And snatch the wronged away from expiation 
And leave the wronger in remorse and woe; 

Or otherwise dash on the wronger’s head, 

And hurry him to his eternal rendering, 

With all his guilt fresh written on his head. 

But every man would rush to doing good, 

And race to beat his neighbor to the scene 
Of wretchedness, to take its woe away. 


ROMANCIE. 


' 76 

All classes would, in friendly emulation, 

Cope with each other in good deeds of charity. 

Then, this lost, sin-cursed world would be an Eden, 
Wherein each man, in honest industry, 

Would feed upon the fullness of the field; 

And in contentment wait the coming time. 

Refold. Ah ! but such dreams as that are not fulfilled 
Among the mortal beings of the world. 

Each man, each woman, each brave boy, fair girl; 

Each person that knows that he lives knows, also, 

That in the future — he can’t tell how far — 

A trap is swung above his fated head 
That will drop twixt his body and his soul; 

Yet, in the very dread of his destruction, 

He will not hesitate at any deed, 

No matter where the consequences fall. 

Men will, while sinking breathless to the grave, 

Strike at their fellow men, and God blaspheme. 

Not dread of penalty, but love of justice, 

Must war the reign of wrong and crime restrain. 

(Dainty, running through the hall singing.) 
Dainty. Te dink, te dink, te diddle, te dink, 

Te dink, te diddle, de dae, de dink. 

Magera. When God forgets a mortal, ’twill not matter, 
The mortal’s memory will, too, be dead. 

His angel passed along the corridor. 

Refola. ’T is when the hopes anticipate success 
That failure of an enterprise brings death. 

Death or sweet Dainty soon will liberate me. 

My soul swells into knowledge that ere long 
I ’ll swim in the free winds of native land, 

Or claim my latest heritage from earth — 

A tomb. 

Magera. Then has the moment, darling, come 
When I must person Hope, and you, Despair ? 

Take back a share of that encouragement 


ROMANCIE . 


77 


That you in vast profusion have poured out 
To me in all these years that have rolled on. 

Hark ! hark ! Our keeper ’s in the corridor ! 

Now God assist us and conceal the child. 

{Two keepers come to the grating.) 

Keeper. Take that, and may the life it gives to you 
Be life and death at once. 

{Tossing scraps of food on the floor.) 

Refola. Whence comes this malice in your iron soul ? 

Did you not serve us once? Were you not given 
A different treatment from this that we get ? 

{She shouts in a loud tone.) 

Begone ! begone ! Approach not near the cell. 

Oh ! hide, and come not near this dungeon tomb ! 

Away! away! your coming murders us ! 

Come not ! come not ! unto our tear-moist cell ! 

Oh, stony-hearted keepers, get you gone; 

Take back this food and bring desired death; 

Oh, keepers ! cold, unmerciful, cold keepers ! 

Leave as alone — for it seems better to us 
That gaunt starvation stand beside us gazing 
Than that you smile upon our awful woe; 

Starvation’s heart is sooner wrung with grief, 

Starvation’s eyes do sooner overflow, 

Than do the heart and eyes of pitiless men 
That pass on, heedless of the prayerful cries 
Of brothers dying in the monster’s claws. [derstood? 

(Aside to Magera.) Think you the child has heard and un- 
Magera. Sweetheart ! I think so; do n’t excite suspicion. 
Keeper. Oh, bawling strumpet ! Let jackasses bray, 

And let the soft speech of the gentle woman 
Tone down rough men with its caressing sound. 

Refola. What have we done that you conspire against us ? 
In your remembrance of kind deeds of yore 
Assist us — liberate us from this grave. 

Keeper. Then you were wealthy, and like summer flies 


ROMANCIE. 


78 

Men swarm around the morning lights that rise; 

But now — since it is truth it may be told — 

I did not love you, but I loved your gold; 

And when a star sinks to the western bar 
Men turn from it to gaze the rising star. 

Befola. But if you aid us you shall share our gains, 

And ample riches shall reward your pains. 

I do not try to bribe, 1 only plead — 

The prayers of suffering in pity heed, 

And God himself has promised to reward 
He who has loved good and has sin abhorred. 

Magera. Entreat no more. Ten years of supplication 
Has not availed — he only laughs at you. 

Keeper. You wrong me, sir; I pity from my heart. 
Magera. You lie. You have no heart; damned son of wolf ! 
Keeper. My eyes do coin certificates of pity 
In series numberless as desert sands. 

Magera. The reason that you are not perjured, liar, 

Is that you fear to swear, lest God’s wrath blast you. 

You hybrid, got of bitch wolf, and hell doomed; 

Your nature — though it bear the form of man — 

Is compounded of beastly ravening 
And hell’s hot-heated lies. 

Keeper. You wrong me, sir. 

Ten years I ’ve wept your suffering, 

And I am come to set you now at freedom. 

Befola. Praised be you, God, and man’s relenting spirit. 
We both forgive you all your cruelties — 

Yea, even these marks of blows that you have dealt us 
Will serve but to remind us of your pity. 

In freedom we ’ll rejoice and thank you for it, 

And will for all we have bless you and God. 

Keeper. You will be under little obligations 
To me, for I mean to just make discovery 
To you how you may extricate yourselves. 

Befola. Then speak it quick — suspense is horrible; 


RO MANCIE. 


79 


And oh I pray Heaven our freedom speeds on soon. 

Keeper. Nine days at longest will suffice to free you. 
Refold. Nine days? They shall be seconds as they pass, 
To measure them by manifested patience; 

But they ’ll be centuries, weighed in the scale 
Of heart’s deep yearning and deferred delight. 

How may we break away ? Oh, answer briefly ! 

Keeper. Your husband shall request of me the means. 
Magera. The only reason you ’re not damned to Hell 
Is that I am not God. If I were chained 
Six thousand fathoms ’neath the lake of Hell, 

And felt its lava liquid fill my lungs, 

Aud I, in stooping, could buy my escape, 

I would not bow to you or beg your mercy. 

Keeper. Farewell. That pride that damns a man to Hell 
Will hardly stoop to beg escape from Hell. 

Farewell. 

Refold. Remain. He will implore it of you. 

My husband, for me. Do not let your pride 
Plunge me in wretchedness for all my days. 

Let me go in the world to seek my child. 

Ask it, my husband; ’t is an easy way 
To swing that massive shutter there ajar. 

Let me drink in the sunshine of outside; 

Let me seek out my child, and feel her arms 
Encircle my neck, and her sweet lips kiss me. 

Do n’t let your pride hold me off from my child. 

Oh, that you had a mother’s heart one moment ! 

Then you would yield. For me ! My love, for me ! 

Mdgerd. I beg you, sir, give her the information 
How she may reach her babe. 

Keeper. Say “Please, sir, tell.” 

Magerd. I ’ll pray damnation down from God upon you, 
But make my prayers to you I never will. [ for me. 

Refold ( kissing him). I ’ll seal your lips until you speak 
Mdgerd. He only taunts and tortures you for sport. 




8o 


RO MANCIE. 


Refold. Make oath, sir, then he ’ll beg it in your terms. 
Magera. His oath ! Bah ! His oath, weighed against his 
Would strike an even balance — it weighs nothing, [heart, 
He that will murder will do perjury; 

And he that will stand in the eye of God 
And do one crime will perjure in God’s name. 

I beg you, sir, please tell her of the way. 

Keeper. Kneel and say please. 

Magera. Oh, monster ! Oh, you villain with wolf’s fangs ! 
Go on and persevere until you stretch 
The tether God has given your corruption. 

You and each villain that does crime will reach 
The end at last; and when your mountain, guilt, 

Falls on your head and crushes you in Hell, 

Though you shall kneel to God for centuries, 

The mercy that you outraged here on earth 

Will never deign to ease one pain or pang. [ Down ! 

Refold. Down, husband ! I kneel with you, husband. 
Though you were adamant, and each set limb 
With ribs of steel were rigid, your wife’s love 
Would by the power of one single asking 
Compel your haughty pride to genuflection. [liberty. 

Magera. I kneel. Please give my wife the key to 
Keeper. Well done; well done. Now my soft heart will 
The food I bring take, trample under foot, [tell it. 

And pour the water out upon the ground ; 

And of the food partake not, of the drink 
Drain not a draught, and on my oath I swear 
That thirst and hunger will within ten days 
Be able to draw you between these bars 
Though they do shut as close as locked jaws. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha. 

Magera. Worm! maggot! viper! dog! 

There is not wit in that ; for any man 
Can steal and lie and perjure for his play. 

Come you within armed to the crown with arms 


RO MANCIE. 


8l 


And meet me if you dare. You do not dare. 

You know that I would tear your form to shreds, 

And with my arm hurl your damned soul to Hell. 

Away, dog ! worm ! 1 stoop from dignity 
To get enraged at you. You are too base 
To merit even scorn of honest man. 

Refold. I am so thirsty that it seems my eyes 
Have drained their tears into the drying blood 
And left themselves parched for the want of moisture. 
Magera. Bring us some water, villain-serving dog] 
Keeper. If you want water get your wife to make it. 

If she don’t want to piss you’ll have to wait. 

Refold. I am so sorry that I made you bow. 

Mdgerd. I love you for it ; it was more for me 
And our Romancie than for you you pleaded. 

{Dainty looks through the aperture above.) 
Dainty. I ’ve come again and did n’t tell nobody. 
Refola. Back, child ; away until the keepers go. 

If they discover you we all are ruined. 

Dainty. I ’m just a little bit too cute for them. 

They don’t trap Dainty, you just bet your breeches. 

I heard you yelling at the keeper here, 

And jammed my thumb into my side, this way, 

And said, Miss Dainty, that is meant for you. 

You don’t know me ; I’m sly as the Old Harry. 

You know old Farmer Verdant? Well, one day 
He watched his melons with a loaded shot gun, 

And while he slept I took his gun away 

And stamped and kicked and crushed a lot of melons, 

Then hid among the bushes till he woke. 

My gracious ! how he ripped and cussed and swore ! 
Then I stepped out and said, “Too bad, too bad; 

The nasty boys just ought to be ashamed.” 

And he gave me an awful big fat melon. 

Magera. If heaven has not a home for you, my child, 

The rest of us may dread a dreadful hell. 

6 


82 


RO MANCIE. 


(She fastens the line and descends. She is dressed as a 
boy. Refola catches her as she swings down ,) 

Refola. Sweet Dainty, how I love you ; I pray heaven 
That my dear love is not mean, selfish love. 

You are so pure I ’d love you any way 

If our conditions were reversed, sweet Dainty. 

Dainty. You make me think so much of Ivano. 

I call her Ivano and mamma, too. 

But there ’s your pencil and some scraps of paper. 

(Refola writes. Dainty gazes around . ) 

Dainty. No pictures on the walls ; no airy windows ; 

No white, clean beds; no books, or plants, or flowers; 

No curtains, harps, or pretty things at all. 

Walls that stare at a feller just like this : 

A little bit of dirty, faded light, 

A nasty stink, a hard and dirty bed, 

And that’s about all that a feller sees. 

Magera. How do you like it ? 

Dainty. Pah ! I own I ’m dirty, 

And soil more dresses than most anybody, 

But I despise a dirt hole just the same. [Hell, 

Magera. Vice hates vice, filth hates filth, and Hell hates 
Because they never see themselves. They see 
Their counterparts or images reflected, 

And to escape, withdraw into themselves. 

Dainty. I ’m glad I ’m what I am. 

Magera. But you are not. 

Dainty. Not what? 

Magera. Not what you are. 

Dainty. W hy silly fool ! 

I am just what I am, and what I am 
I am; and if I am just what I am, 

Why then, of course, I am just what I am. 

Magera. But you’ve got pants on. 

Dainty . What’s it to you, sir? 


ROMANCIE. 


S3 


Magera. To me ’tis naught, to you a pair of pauts. 

{Dainty begins to laugh' and continues to laugh.) 
Magera. What are you laughing at ? 

Dainty. I’m laughing at — T ha, ha, ha, ha! 

Refola. Heard you such music ever in the world ? 
Magera. But tell me, child, so I can have a laugh. 
Dainty. At Pop-eyed Pete. I found him in the river 
Where he had gone to swim, and stole his clothes. 

Then went into the bushes and put on 
His suit, and left him mine, all but the pants. 

T ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

Magera and Refola. T’ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

{Refola comes to Dainty, clasps her, and hisses her.) 
Refola. Your happiness, my child, makes me happy. 

But I’m afraid we make too loud noise, sweet. 

Dainty. I ’ll be a mouse, and will not even squeak. 
Refola. How do you make an S ? I have forgotten. 
Magera. The wonder is, that after these long years 
You have a brain, much less thought in that brain. 

Much less the characters that represent 
The sounds that stand for ideas in the brain. 

{Ivano looks through the opening above.) 

Ivano. My child ! My child ! 

{Refola utters a loud piercing scream.) 

Magera. What are you, being ? 

Dainty. Mamma Ivano ! 

Refola. O Ivano, my Ivano, my Ivano ! O God ! 

If Heaven ever sent an express messenger 
To one of his frail creatures in the world, 

You come as such. 

Ivano. Refola ! Is it possible ? 

{She swings through and descends . They run into a long 
embrace. She kisses Magera.) 

Dainty. Is this my papa, mamma Ivano ? 

Ivano. No, child. She does not know and has not known 
Her papa. 


kO MANCIE. 


84 

Refold. Who is she, Ivano? The Dainty child? 

Ivano. She is God’s child, my child, and TerroFs child. 
Refold. O Ivano ! I knew you innocent. 

Mdgerd. We gather danger round our periled heads. 

The keepers might return at any time. 

Refold. My husband, you cannot escape from here. 

The opening will not admit you through. 

Let us destroy no time in parleying. 

I will escape with Dainty from the cell, 

And Ivano shall stay to take my place 
And lull suspicion and avoid discovery 
Till I can raise the country ’gainst the fiends. 

If I had done that many years ago 

We had been free. Trust everything to me. 

The tenants all will know me. I will raise 
In secrecy a throng, and stealthily 
Environ them before they are aware. 

And first I will place guards at yonder hole 
Armed to prevent the fiends from killing you. 

Trust me. And, Ivano, you will remain ? 

Ivdno. Yes; care for Dainty as her mother would. 

God lend aid to your plans. 

Refold. And you will be 

The solacing companion for Magera. 

Ivdno (dside). Do you not fear to trust poor Ivano ? 

But I forget. You trust him perfectly. 

Refold. I will trust Heaven or Heaven’s messenger. 

The day of freedom is about to dawn. 

My heart exerts, my spirits soar to Heaven. 

Good bye, my love, I will return ere long, 

And bring you what we both have wished so long. 

{Refold dnd Ddinty dscend the rope dnd cldmber through.) 
Ddinty. Good bye, sweet mamma Ivano. 

Ivdno. Good bye; 

God keep you, child, and lend aid to Refola. 

Refold. Ere long to come again, and then, O, joy. 


RO MANCIE. 


85 


FOURTH SCENE. 

A secluded spot on the bank of a river. Pop-eyed Pete in 
swimming. Dainty’s clothes scattered around upon the 
shore. Pop-eyed Pete, enter, naked , and sees Dainty’s 
clothes in place of his. 

Pop-eyed Pete. Well, circumstances aid catastrophies ! 
Calamity befall posterity 
Of stranger birth or consanguineous 
If sorcery, enchantment or bewitchery 
Has not accomplished metamorphoses 
Beyond the tension of credulity. 

I was a boy when I pulled off these garments, 

And I ’m a boy still, or the mail pouch carries 
The seeds of testimony to a lie. 

But these habiliments are for a girl. 

Aha ! perception serves me faithfully 
In ascertaining where the trickery is. 

This is an apron I ’ve seen Dainty wear, 

The dog-goned, sneaking, little vagabond. 

I wonder if the little misdemeanant 

Saw me in swimming ? Yes; of course she did. 

Oh ! the acknowledged little malefactress ! 

What is the proper course in these premises? 

Now somewhere on the surface of the world 
The little varlet struts and straddles round 
In all the glory of pants masculine. 

Well, she is good to leave me hers instead; 

But then remuneration should be made 
In native coin to cancel obligation; 

However, leave me out of categories 
Wherein is classed the hypochondriac — 

Let me be a philosopher or something. 

Now, let me see: Which garment goes on first ? 

The pants. Where are the pants ? The pants. The pants. 


86 


ROQIANCIE. 


Where are the little vixen’s inexpressibles ? 

Where are the mad-cap rogue’s unmentionables ? 

Where the pair casings for the tom-boy’s legs ? 

The breeches; where are they ? The pantaloons; 

The trousers; where are they ? The drawers; the pants. 
Well, consternation has me on the hip; 

There are no pants. And Peter pants for pants, 

But pants for Peter’s pants are none. Well said ! 

I thought that girls and women all wore pants; 

But there ’s no use to pant for pants when pants 
For panting are not purchased. Pants ! pants ! pants ! 
{He picks up the skirt.) 

Now where does this go? It looks like a shirt; 

But there are no receptacles for arms, 

And this encircling band is monstrous large 
To circumscribe the neck of any mortal. 

{He drops it over his head.) 

It never was intended for the neck. 

{He fastens it around under his arms.) 

Well, what an aspect ! what a spectacle ! 

A pair of aspects ! and a pair of spectacles I 
No crane did ever stalk on longer legs 
Than mine appear below this institution; 

But then, the dress will answer that defect. 

A maiden clothes herself in mystery 
Hard to unravel as the maid herself. 

{He puts the dress on, wrong side before.) 

Things that do n’t fit should not be put together. 
Unfortunately I ’m the dupe of trickster; 

But I will even her ere ends the race. 

No wonder she wears such immense long stockings, 

When for her legs there ’s such scant covering. 

My legs feel like two wires stuck in a barrel. 

My shoes, perhaps, were too capacious for her. 

{He pours sand and dirt from them , then puts them on.) 
She finishes a joke that she begins. 


RO MANCIE. 


8 7 


What did it profit her to fill my shoes 

With sand ? [He picks up the garters. 

What in the nature of created things 

Does she do with sleeve holders ? — I do n’t know. 

Ho ! ho ! They just drop off; they are too big; 

And her arms are not large enough to fill them. 

They must go on her legs to hold her stockings — 

That is precisely their intended use. 

Now am I not a dandy ? Am I not ? 

And captivating ? So so. Am I not ? 

Now am I not a petticoat ? Say, gentle gaffer. 

Respectable and genteel figure I cut. 

It is a ventilated costume, surely. 

It germinates embarrassment within me 
To have the form and feature of my legs 
So openly expressed to gazing eyes. 

But I ’m no wooden spoon; I am a gay. 

Whoopla ! I kick, although I am no kicker. 

Doodlebug ! Doodlebug ! Dong ! Ding ! Dong ! 

I am no moonstruck chumper by a rod. 

Were I a girl, and did I wear her pants, 

I’d kick imaginary tenpins — thus — 

Above my head, though art and nature both 
Complained of stretching things beyond the limit. 

I will be what I must be, for a season, 

Then what I would be will, or know the reason. 


FIFTH SCENE. 

TerroVs cell. Terrol walking to and fro. 

Terrol. If men would spend the time in studying means 
For doing good that now they spend in evil, 

What transformation this old world would see. 

If brains had labored to invent devices 
For means of good, instead of Hell machines, 


88 


RO MANCIE. 


The world had smiled at smiles, not groaned at groans. 
The time and application that constructed 
The wheel and rack and guillotine and cross, 

Might have divided ’mong a million souls 
The good things of the world. And many a man 
That schemed through life inclandestine transactions, 
Died unpossessed of what one-half the labor 
In honest traffic might have heaped around him. 

And men will brood on injuries and wrongs, 

And seek revenges till they sink to Hell, 

When by a grand compassion and great life 

They might have shamed their injurers and wrongers, 

And vengeance done that God would have approved. 

Oh ! sons of men and daughters of sweet women, 

Carve on the keystone of your life’s design 
This motto: “Live to labor, and to love 
The good and noble in life’s total sum.” 

For indolence is a revolving wheel 
That rolls its nether rim beneath the surface 
Of deep perdition; but the stair of industry 
Climbs by its side the loftiest height of Heaven. 

From one unto the other is a step; 

And he that climbs, and he that sinks below, 

May in an instant step, and change his course. 

There is no policy nor pay nor pleasure 
In crime; but men do wrong, for Hell is in them. 

And I account among the worst of crimes 
That wanton, needless cruelty that punishes 
Humanity beyond the very crime’s end. 

The robber that breaks in my house and steals 
My treasure, is a burglar and a thief, 

And that is base enough; but if he kills 
Me first, and then takes with him all my treasure, 

That is the grossest crime, because most useless. 

He might have stolen my pelf and spared my life. 

Oh, it was wrong — so horrible, so horrible ! 


R0MANC1E. 


89 


For that great ruffian to mar my home, 

And tear me from the love of my young wife, 

That it is in superlative degree ; 

But when he tossed me here in iron chains 
And tortured me, it was more horrible ; 

But if he vexed her, as God fears he did. 

With lies as heartless as his demon breast, 

It was most horrible and damnable. 

Oh, God ! is there no avenue to freedom? 

Ah ! the infernal villain knows too well 
The tender point in any human’s heart, 

And where to fix his tortures for most pain. 

He knows my raging thirst for liberty, 

For liberty means more than life for me ; 

It means a home and wife, and bliss for her ; 

So he has fixed a hellish mechanism 
That ever lures me with its broken promises. 

I step here on this riveted plate iron 

And stand awhile and yonder door springs open. 

My weight does act by levers in some means 
That throws it wide ajar, but when I bound 
To reach it it shuts with a sullen clang 
That sounds the funeral of my dying hopes. 

Peace ! let me try it ; I cannot refrain. 

Long days and months I beat myself away 
And go not to the bootless enterprise, 

But hope at last brings out such sweet persuasions 
That I attempt it 0 ’er and o ’er again. 

{He steps upon the plate. The door opens after an inter- 
val. Refola and Dainty are just passing along the corridor 
after getting out of the cell in which they had been. They 
shrink back in terror.) 

Now, God of Heaven, if this is a dream, 

And these are angels standing at the portal, 

Do n’t let them dissipate like all the former, 

But grant, oh grant ! they come to set me free. 


RO MANCIE. 


90 

Who are you, in Christ’s name ! Oh, do not vanish. 

( They rush terror stricken away. He springs towards, the 
door. It shuts with a loud , jarring dang.) 

Heaven, do you help the villains torture me ? 

Oh, that such hope should end in such dispair. 

(A sprite enters.) 

Sprite. Occasions are like fruits ; if picked too soon 
Unfit for use, and if allowed to pass 
Maturity, decay and fall to earth ; 

But if selected at the turn of ripeness 
They are the very pabulum of life. 

Events and times approach a noted crisis, 

Expected by the air sprites that attend you. 

Prepare for action, for the womb of destiny 
Is big to birth the epoch of your life. 


RO MANCIE. 


9 1 


FOURTH ACT. 

FIRST SCENE. 

A summer-house by Oolda 'palace. Romancie enters. 
Romancie. Romancie, that is me, is heiress made 
To all the lands and tenements of Golda. 

Bat, for the presence and the guiding love 
Of papa Golda I would quit my claims 
On all the titles, tenements and lands 
That appertain in anywise hereto. 

Oh, with what pride and deep exulting joy 
I gazed upon the wide domains of Golda 
When they were Norna’s, to be shared with me, 

But when the cruel deep closed over him 
I was a pauper in my luxury, 

A hungry beggar in my affluence. 

His death enriched me and impoverished me. 

She that has love is richer than an heiress. 

She that has wealth and love sins being unhappy. 

But wealth where love is not is misery; 

Being capable of purchasing so much, 

Yet not to be exchanged for priceless love. 

A cottage or the heath with my loved darling 
Is better than a palace without him. 

If I could only own a little home 

Even like this summer bower, and there live, 

To wait at evenfall for Norna’s coming, 

And run to meet him and walk back with him, 

Prepare his food, sit by him, talk to him, 

Be kissed by him, sleep clasped close to his side, 

Will any being dare to say to me 
That I would not be happier than now ? 


92 


RO MANCIE. 


This is a weary discontented world, 

Because the lovers do not wed their loves. 

[Sound of hoof beats some distance away on the flagstone .) 
A horseman riding to the hall so late ? 

I see him in the moonlight. He steps down. 

He ’s coming up the gravel walk. O Heaven ! 

I had forfotten, but I cannot now 
Escape into the palace. I will scream. 

Yet he comes like an honest meaning man. 

I will conceal myself and let him pass. 

Then steal back through the window of my room. 

0 righteous God of Heaven ! Is it possible 
There walks a mortal form so like sweet Norna’s? 

’Tis Norna ! Oh ! ’tis Norna ! From the seas 
His loving spirit comes my prayers to answer 
Before it steps into eternity. 

Be still, heart ! Oh ! he comes, as seems, this way. 

Oh ! trembling bosom, be you calm ! be calm ! 

My life is ebbing ! Oh ! that I could shriek ! \_She faints . 

[Norna stops by the summer house.) 

Norna. The palace is all dark. It is all over. 

Hoarse, cruel storm and monstrous ruffians, 

You battled me away until the end. 

O papa Golda ! O my father ! Dead ! 

[He steps inside. lie sees Bomancie. lie starts back, then 
thinks she has been walking then'e and fallen asleep.) 

My gentle sister ! In our father’s death 

She has been deeply grieved, and longed for me. 

Even as my dying father yearned for me, 

She has looked out and prayed for my approach. 

She has come out to be alone and wait 
Till I would come, and so has fallen asleep. 

[Takes her up tenderly and kisses her.) 

Romancie ! Holy God of Heaven forbid 
That evil hap has wronged you ! * Tis not true 1 
Romancie ! Sister ! 0 Romancie darling 1 


ROMANCIE. 


93 

She lives ! She breathes ! Life has not fled her fair form ! 

{Romancie slowly revives. He chafes her hands and ever 
and anon kisses her and presses her to him.) 

Romancie. Sweet brother Norn a! 

Norna. Oh ! speak on ! speak on ! 

There ’s lease of life in that sweet voice ! Speak on ! 

I was so frightened. I thought you were — darling ! 

Romancie. I know it is a dream; speak very softly, 

And kiss me very terderly and lovingly. 

I knew you’d come though in a blissful dream 
To give Romancie one caress and kiss. 

If this were real and all the rest a dream, 

1 guess I would be happier than an angel, 

But papa died and went away so far ! 

You saw him, didn’t you, in glory, Norna? 

Why did he not come, too, to see Romancie ? 

Romancie loved him next best after you. 

Norna. Poor head ! it has been troubled long and sorely, 
But I am here now, sister, to console you. [rible ! 

Romancie. The salt sea swallowed you, and oh ! how hor- 
Norna. How did she know ? God saved me for my sister. 
Romancie. Your arms clasp me as closely as did Noma’s. 
Norna. Why should they not ? whose arms are they but 
Norna’s? 

Romancie. I felt your kisses as though mortal’s lips 
Pressed them on mine. If you are a spirit, stay 
Until the dream completes its ecstasy; 

But if you are a mortal, speak that name 
That I above all others want to hear. 

Norna. Romancie ! 

Romancie. Good, but not the name, yet, sweet. 

Norna. My sister ! 

Romancie. Living in the old home days; 

That name is sweet, but that is not the name. 

Norma. My darling ! 

Romancie . Very near, but not the name; 


94 


ROMAN CIE. 


That title does embrace the title sister. 

Noma. And I embrace the sister, not the title. 

Romancie. Were you a spirit, you would surely know it. 
Noma. But being only Norna, I don’t know. 

(She steps away and gazes around, then looks at him.) 
Romancie. You live in the old memories and thoughts; 
You only know the old home title — sister — 

You only know what brother Noma knew. 

Oh, brother Norna ! this is not a dream. 

The other was the dream, and this is real. 

(She springs into his arms.) 

I want to press close to you with both arms, 

And kiss you so; but don’t remember it. 

Norna. If I forget it, God forget my soul. 

Romancie. I fainted when I saw you coming up; 

What happened afterwards ? 

Norna. Something like this — [Kiss. 

Romancie. Do it again; but then forget about it. 

Norna. I may forget the prayers my mother taught me, 
And all the precepts of my early teaching, 

If I plunge into ruin in the future, 

But 1 will not forget my sister’s love. 

Romancie. Do n’t say that; please forget; I want you to. 
Norna. When I forget, these will refresh my memory. 
Romancie. Remember it that way whene’er you will. 

Oh, Norna; I ’m so happy I am frantic. 

Norna. This lovely form is too much unprotected 
In this dew-moistened air. 

Romancie. Well do n’t remember it. 

But you are shielding me as much as possible — 

I have as much around me as girl wants. [walks. 

Norna. You ’re dressed for bed, and not for midnight 
Romancie. Do n’t speak of it, and never do remember it. 
Norna. We must inside; this lily form is ’periled. 

You ’ve nothing on but this one, sleeveless garment, 

Low throated, and so fine it is no shield 


RO MANCIE. 


95 


Against the damps at all. 

{He kisses the bare arm that is on his shoulder. ) 
Romancie. Do n’t make me blush. 

I ’m warm enough; let ’s not go yet a while. 

Noma. But this is not protection for the night; 

I pray yon, go where you are dressed for going. [time. 

Romancie {aside). I may heed that request some future 
{Aloud.) I have more on than this night dress I wear; 

I have my stockings and my buskins on. 

There now, you ’ve made me blush and I do n’t like you. 
{She hides her face on his shoulder; he lifts her to kiss her.) 
Let ’s not go yet; I am too happy here. 

Sit down here, and I ’ll sit down upon your knee 
( If you ’ll forget it ) and tell you of papa. 

While you were far away — I so longed for you — 

Sweet papa only begged his life to stay 
With him till you came. — I so wanted you. — 

He spoke unto the tiring life within him 
And said, “Oh shadowy ghost, ethereal vapor, 

Whate’er you are that bides in this clay form, 

Stay yet till Norna comes.” — I love you so ! 

Kiss me; squeeze both your arms around me — so. 

I ’ll kiss you, if you ’ll never think of it. 

Norna. And I — tossed on the fierce, opposing seas — 
Came not at his loved calls. Oh traitors damned ! 

Go on, and talk of him. 

Romancie. He gave his blessing 

Into my keeping to be given to you. 

I give you deep, deep love; I kiss you too. 

You love me — do n’t you? 

Norna. Sweet Romancie ! Darling ! 

Romancie. Sweet? 

Norna. Sweetest darling, yes. 

Romancie. Your love ? 

Norna. My love. 

The trouble and the anguish of her grief 


ROMANCIE. 


96 

Has brought her nearly to distraction’s verge. 

My father was the stay, the clinging vine 
Clung in confiding trust and love upon. 

Oh ! let me grieve alone ! She is too young, 

She is too beautiful and rosy fair; 

She comes to me and reaches forth the tendrils 
Of love to clasp me; she shall love — not grieve. 

Sweet sister ! sweet Romancie ! pretty darling ! 

Romancie. He said that you would love and care for me, 
And love me very fondly — do you love me ? 

I love you, Norna; you ’re my only love — 

But do n’t remember that I told you so, 

Nor that I asked you once if you loved me. 

Love makes us grieve, and then love comes and cures it. 
Love of the living cures grief for the dead. 

My papa Golda, do I wrong your memory ? 

I love you as my papa just as ever, 

But love leaves little room for other passions 
Within the heart that it does occupy. 

I love you, papa, but can’t grieve for you. 

I cannot tell him that I ’m not his sister, 

For then he might not give me any love, 

And then ’t would not be right to love and kiss him, 

For maiden modesty and maiden right 

Would drive me from those tender, sweet expressions. 

But I do n’t want his love as brother’s love, 

But I will let him love me as a brother 
Until he learns to love me as another. 

(1 Commotion in palace. Attendants running with lights.) 
Attendant. Romancie I Oh, Romancie ! Weep this day, 
And sad, afflicted night. Oh, gloom in Golda ! 

The father dead, son drowned, and daughter murdered. 
Romancie ! Oh, where lies her blissful form, 

Now violated by abhorred assassin ? 

Search all ! Oh, God of Heaven, avenge these deeds ! 
Norna. Cease this uproar. Ho, servants, hitherward I 


RO MANCIE. 


97 

Attendant. Hark ! The departed spirit of young master 
Does roam round Golda, and now calls. Oh, hark I 
Fly to the light and shelter of the palace ! 

Noma. Come, servants, come ! 

(Two servants enter with a lantern.) 

Attendant. This is too much of joy. Alive and well 1 
Old Golda palace will yet smile again. 

Noma. Go you and quell the tumult in the halls. 

Stay you and briefly tell this clamor’s meaning. 

(One attendant goes away. The other speaks.) 

Attendant. To-night I wandered down along the beach, 
Close where that ship belonging to those strangers 
Was moored, and presently I heard some footfalls, 

And crept into the shade, when by me passed 
Those two inhuman strangers. They were talking 
Of plots, surprises, sheeted light, and noises, 

And murder they had done. I listened closely, 

And gathered from their talk that they had entered 
Romancie’s bed chamber and murdered her. 

The ship was ready set for a speedy sail, 

And they embarked and in the night passed on, 

Until the closing ocean shadows swallowed them. 

Noma. Oh, God ! but for your ramble in the moonlight 
This form I now caress had been — it is too horrible. 

Who were they ? strangers, did I hear you say ? 

Attendant. As they passed by my ambush I o’erheard 
The names Bandoska and Mocero spoken. 

Noma. Ha, villains ! What ’s the plot against us both ? 
God hear me vow revenge. Sweet, gentle sister I 
While Norna slept far down the surfy coast, 

Where stormy waves tossed him upon the sand, 

What horror might have happened to you, darling I 
Come. We will follow to the silent tomb 
Our father, sister, then I go to toil 
Upon the track of my infernal foes. 

Romancie. Where Norna goes, Romancie also goes. 

—7 


9 8 


RO MANCIE. 


SECOND SCENE. 

Ivano’ 8 home. Mother Gardy preparing supper . 
M. Gardy. I ’m very free with Ivano’s home things. 
But what’s the odds ? Lord’s mercy, what’s the odds ? 
I am as much a mother to her, sure, 

As woman ever was to one not hers. 

And had she been born at my dear old home 
Instead of hers, why, then she had been mine. 

I ’m mother to nine-tenths the neighborhood, 

At any rate, so I say, what’s the odds ? 

My lady Ivano, and Dainty, bless her — 

I mind the time she peeped into the world, 

And she was pretty as a buttercup 

Born when the spring has kissed the blushing world 

In amorous love. But Ivano and Dainty — 

God bless her ! she came into this big world 
With resolution to look out for self. 

I mind the time. The little rosy rose ! 

She thought the world an awful big, cold world, 

And thought she ’d rather stay right where she was, 

And cried because she could n’t. Ha, ha, ha ! 

She could n’t talk, saints bless her ! could n’t talk, 

But she protested ’gainst her first nice bath 
As eloquently as some that do talk. 

And her first dress — saints bless the little dear — 

Did suit her fancy not at all, at all. 

And so she kicked and kicked — saints bless her now — 
And caught my finger, and still held my hand, 

As much as saying, “Leave me naked, ma’am.” 

She could n’t talk ; ha, ha ! she could n’t talk, 

But she could say a mighty deal of things. 

She could n’t talk, but I could understand her. 

Ha, ha ! old Mother Gardy understood. 


ROMANCIE. 


99 


But Ivano and Dainty now are gone 
Astraddling somewhere ; where 1 do not know — . 

God bless them — and I ’ve come here in their absence 
And made things all my own. But what ’s the odds ? 

I turn my hand to many, many things ; 

I cook most excellently ’mong those things. 

They will come home and Ivano be saying, 

“Now Dainty,” — bless her! — “we will have some supper, 
And then to bed.” For she will sleep with Dainty, 

Because the one that she most wants to sleep with 
Is gone — God pity him ! I mind the time 
When Ivano slept with me in one bed. 

And Dainty — bless her ! — too slept in that bed ; 

Yet she was not between us, nor before, 

Behind, down at the foot, up on the pillows, 

Nor romping over us, yet in the bed. 

And well I mind the time a little after 

When Ivano and I slept in one bed 

And Dainty with us, sometimes in between, 

Till Ivano would grow some jealous of me, 

Ha, ha ! and take the baby — bless her, God ! — 

Before her, and would hold her in her arms, 

And kiss her ; then would hold her to her breast 
And laugh for joy. ; then think of papa Terrol, 

God pity him ! and weep most piteously. 

But Ivano and Dainty — bless her soul ! 

Will come, and they’ll be talking of their supper, 

And in they ’ll step, and I will say, ha, ha ! 

I ’ll say, ha, ha ! I ’ll say, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

Come in, ha, ha ! you ’re welcome, come you in ; 

And they will be surprised, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 

And they will laugh, ha, ha ! both laugh at once, 

And Dainty, bless her soul, will run to kiss me, 

And we will all be happy, ha, ha, ha ! 

( Pop-eyed Pete , dressed like Dainty, steals to the door.) 
Pete. Philoprogenitiveness save you, Dainty, 


IOO 


ROMANCIE. 


From some vile instrument of flagellation. 

For smouldering rancor burns in my intentions, 

To consummate a plot that will invoke 
Upon your head your mother’s punishment. 

Oh ! you intrinsic, roguish malefactress ! 

I ’ll make you suffer for your trickery. 

I ’ll rush inside and raise a pandemonium. 

I ’ll yell and whoop and smash the bric-a-brac. 

I’ll toss a chunk beneath a corner hell, 

And then I ’ll rush away, and Dainty’s mother, 

When Dainty comes back home, will spank her warm. 

(He bursts the door open and rushes in.) 

M. Oardy. Ha, ha, ha, Dainty — 

Pete (aside.) Well, old witch, you here? 

No matter. Here we go. Whoop la ! 

M. Gardy. Why Dainty — 

Pete. Whoop la ! I kick, although I am no kicker. 
Whoop la ! yap ! yap ! bang ! whiz 1 There goes a chair ! 
M. Gardy. O Dainty, Dainty — 

Pete. Whoop ! rah ! lah ! ta ! ta ! 

Smash ! crash ! We ’re at it ! I ’m the devil, ma’am 1 
If you ’re a witch, come at us. Whoop la ! Whoop 1 
Doodle bug, doodle bug, dong, ding, dong ! 

Smash ! crash ! Away, your bric-a-brac, old witch ! 

M. Gardy. Oh ! You incorrigible little snapper ! 

I ’ll teach you ! Dainty, Dainty, Dainty, Dainty I 
Pete. E-yonk-e-donk-donk-e ! I’m no jackass, 

But I can bray. Whoop la ! Crash furniture ! 

Roar ! roar ! Whoop ! yah ! yay ! hip ! boom ! 

Your supper will go next ! I am the devil ! 

Rare ! rip ! rare ! rip 1 Whoop la ! Yonk-e-donk-e ! 

M. Gardy. God bless ! If I had known, at your first bath 
What stuff had entered in your composition, 

I would have spanked you redder than you were. 

Whoo-ae I Oh I come, somebody, quick ! Whoo-ae ! 

Pete. Oh I I ’m no pewter paddle, by the clock. 


RO MANCIE. 


IOI 


No flies or fleas perch on my hairy legs 
When I begin to kick. My mother tells me 
That I was born at day break, in the morning, 

The second Monday in the month of June. 

Whoop la ! Whoop la ! Whopp loo ! Soo ray ! Rare ! Roar 1 
{Dainty, in Pete’s clothes, springs in with a whip.') 
Dainty. You dirty, little, pop-eyed devil, you ! 

Take that ! take that ! and that, and that, and that ! 

Pete. You Daint ! Stop that ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! You little 
Dainty. Your song is not so merry as it was. [jade. 
Take that ! I ’ll pour your tea ! Is it too warm ? 

Then blow a loud bassoon to cool it, dear. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha ! You cannot even Dainty. 

I hold a hand full. Pare my garments off. 

My clothes are warmer than yours, are’nt they, Pete ? 

{lie clenches with her. She breaks away and strikes again. 
He runs under the bed. She starts to follow, and Mother 
Gardy catches her by the coat tail and spanks her.) 

You old she devil ! Let go from my tail. 

M. Gardy. You lousy, little, pop-eyed, dripping snout ! 
I’ll teach you to join with the little jade 
In my tormenting. Never since a child 
Of two years have you felt a mother’s hand kiss 
So loving warm as my hand kisses, sir. 

Dainty. Don’t Mother Gardy; that is me you’re spanking. 
M. Gardy. I care not whether it is me, myself, 

Somebody else, or strangers; here ’s my welcome. 

Let this be a warm lesson to you, sir, 

To stay away from Dainty’s house and Dainty. 

{Befola enters cautiously, scrutinizing.) 

Befola. Oh, Mother Gardy ! 

{Pete runs outside, folloiced by Dainty.) 

M. Gardy. Mercy ! bless my kin ! 

Befola. Do you know me ? 

M. Gardy. I would, but you ’re in heaven. 

If 1 could know that from that other world 


102 


ROMANCIE. 


A pilgrim were permitted to tell stories, 

I ’d question you of all my kin and friends 
That have crossed over, leaving Mother Gardy 
No joy but this — that she ’s the happy mother 
Of quite nine-tenths of all the neighborhood. 

Did you see Humbo, Hold, Duraze and Kagi ? 

Did you see Wooden-legged Ube and Pizen? 

Is Bendi still cross-eyed in Paradise ! 

What is the occupation of old Yosem; 

Does he still fish for suckers in a quarry ? 

Do angels ever talk of the millennium ? 

Tell me of Fuley; does she ever speak 
Of the one only mother that she had ? 

She was my only child; and yet not so, 

For I’m the mother of at least nine-tenths 
Of all the neighborhood of Undezerne. 

That’s right! that’s right! A child can’t, even in heaven, 
Forget that breast and those fond, loving arms 
That fondled it on earth. That is just right. 

Come in my arms; rest in my arms, Refola; 

For out of heaven there ’s no place of rest 
So soft and sweet as in the faithful arms 
Of some true woman that bears love for you. [Gardy ! 

Refola. You know me, then? My sweet old Mother 
M. Gardy. Do n’t mind these poor, old eyes; 

It does them good to have their sluices opened 
And feel their globes inundated with tears; 

It’s like the genial showers that God’s clouds 
Pour on a feverish world, or like the streams 
The irrigater dykes along the runlets 
To moist the ground and liven up the fields. 

Joy that can weep is sweetest joy of all; 

Grief that can’t weep is deadly bane to life. [Gardy 1 

Refola. Then you do know me? Loved old Mother 
M. Gardy. Why, child, I ’ve always known you; so lie 
1 ’ll sit on the bedside and hold you, so. [down; 


ROMANCIE. 


103 

Why, child, I’ve always known you — always known you; 
I knew you four months ere your uncle did. 

Your mother, bless her ! introduced me to you 
When you were very young. She blushed, she did. 

Herself just a young girl, and blushed so rosy ! 

And nestled in my arms and spoke of you; 

And blushed, and spoke of you, and blushed again. 

And as I knew that you were in her mind 
Ere you were in the world, I clasped her, thus, 

And spoke of you, and then she blushed so rosy ! 

I mind the time you peeped into the world; 

She was so happy, your sweet mother was; 

I mind the time. You were dressed like a princess — 

Not when you gazed at first with blinking eyes 
Upon the wonder world, but afterwards — 

Dressed like a princess. Oh ! I mind the time ! 

You were so rosy, and she was so happy; 

You like a little, pink be-gentle-with-me, 

She like a foolish, proud I ’ve-done-it-now. 

I mind the time. And then the girlhood time, 

How it was like a long, sweet dream to you ! 

And then you met Magera, and you loved him; 

He was so loving and considerate 

And proud that you were so wrapped up in him, 

And wanted so to be wrapped up in you. 

Oh, girls should to the bottom drain the cup 
Of girlhood and the tender wooing time, 

For that, they know, is very bliss in heaven, 

And wedded life they cannot know will be. 

And it will always be a cup of bliss, 

So let the wedded life be what it may, 

To think upon the girlish days and wooing. 

And well I mind your happy bridal morning. 

Old Mother Gardy was the happy maid 
That tended on you in the bathing room, 

And saw you blush all over with delight, 


ROMANCIE. 


104 

And saw the ruby color glow beneath 
Your sweet, soft, tender and transparent skin, 

Like rosy girlish cheeks ’neath gauzy veil. 

I mind you dressed, a faintly blushing rose 
Wrapped in a lily; for you were a rose, 

And your rich bridal costume was a lily. 

And then I mind the evening as you passed 
Along the hall unto the bridal chamber. 

You ran into my arms a little instant, 

And blushed because I whispered in your ear, 

“Spare Mother Gardy one dear, sweet caress, 

Before you doff this snowy bridal dress'; 

For, donned another, not a little kiss 
Will you reserve from some one else’s bliss.” 

You ran into my arms a little instant, 

Kissed me, and ran into your husband’s arms 
And he kissed you, and you looked back and smiled, 

And so passed on into the bridal chamber. 

Refold. Keep up the simple story. It is like 
Successions of the pictures of the past. 

I lie as in a dream, and by me rolls 

The memories that will not die till I do. [ ness. 

M. Gardy. And then I mind the time you entered busi- 
You did begin the business of a publisher. 

You published just one little, unbound book — 

The general history of two lives in one — 

An animated volume, dedicated 

Unto your husband; and because it was 

The history of both your happy lives 

You studied briefly, and named it “ Romancie.” 

Refold. Stop just there, Mother Gardy; say no more. 

That finishes and rounds the perfect story. 

The passing years have made a babbler of you, 

But added sweetness to your touching themes. 

I am not weary, but I have enough. 

’T is like the music that lifts up the soul 


ROMANCIE. 


io 5 


And carries it through some long, blissful flight, 

And settles with it down upon a couch 
Of hyacinths and violets, from whence 
It does not want to rise to other flights, 

But rest and dream of that one it has flown. 

’T is like my lover’s kisses and caresses, 

That follow after each the happy other, 

Until my bliss is just at the perfection 
Of it, and then I want no other kiss 
Or dear caress, but just desire to sleep 
And dream of bliss in his fond, loving arms. 

Romancie ! Sweet Romaucie ! Darling mine, 

I find bliss with you — with you bliss resign. 

M. Gardy. Tell me a story now. Tell of Magera. 
Refold. Oh, thank you. I have dreamed and slept too 
An awful pressing duty calls for me. [ long. 

Come you with me; your aid will help me so. 

( Dainty and Pete come running in.) 

Dainty. Fly ! fly ! Bandoska ’s coming, and Mocero. 

Wait here till I say go, then break away 

And scamper in the woods. They cannot see you. 

I ’ll be good to myself. You, Mother Gardy, 

Will you go, too ? Well, Pete ’s in here with me. 

Stand ready. 

Refola. O God, help us. 

Dainty. Now away I 

( Mother Gardy and Refola hurry away . ) 

Pete. You hide. They hate me; they ’ll think I am you. 

( Dainty hides in a closet. The men enter.) 
Bandoska. All right, Mocero, you go to the palace. 

I ’ll follow after while. She ’ll soon be in. 

{Mocero goes away.) 

Bandoska. Where is your mother ? 

Pete. She has gone outside. 

Bandoska. I know that, wench ! 

Pete. Well, then, why did you ask ? 


io 6 


RO MANCIE. 


Bandoska. See this dark scowl ? 

Pete. Yes, it looks just like this. 


Bandoska. Where is she? 

Pete . That ’s none of your business. 

Bandoska . Answer me fair, you little bastard bitch ! 
Or I will lash you till the blood will flow 
And mark your steps when you run from my arm. 

(He seizes Dainty'’ s ichip and grabs Pete by his dress.) 
Will you tell me, now, where your mother is? 

Pete. Yes. 

Bandoska. Tell it then. 


Pete. I will. 

Bandoska. Curse you, then tell. 

Pete. I’ll tell you where my mamma is, dog ! villain ! 
When down in Hell the devils freeze with cold. 

( Bandoska raises the whip to strike. Dainty springs out, 
seizes a rolling pin and strikes him across the neck , head and 
shoulders. He falls.) 

Dainty. I guess he ’s dead; but if I knew he was n’t, 

I ’d batter him again. My mamma fears him, 

But Dainty ’s not afraid of even the devil. 

I guess I love you just a little, Pete, 

For when he threatened you it made me mad. 

Pete. Sweet Dainty ! let me kiss you just once, then. 

( She bravely submits to it. He kisses her sweetly.) 
Dainty. There, now, you dirty, nasty little devil. 

I meant to call you by your right name, Dona; 

But now you ’re doggoned, mean, old Pop-eyed Pete. 

Pete. I never know just how I ought to take you. 

Dainty. No, but you know just how to take a kiss. 

There, sir, be moved; we better cut and run. 

Bandoska. The only reason why I am not dead 
Is that some devil followed not his blow. [no more, 

So you have flown, have you? (He looks around.) Well, come 
For there will be no home for your returning. 

(He sets fire to the cottage and goes.) 


RO MANCIE. 


107 


THIRD SCENE. 

An apartment in JJndezerne Palace. 

Mocero. How did it happen ? 

Bandoska. God ! how do I know ? 

When from the clouds a thunderbolt descends 
And strikes a man insensible to earth, 

He can’t explain just how and where it hit him. 

I caught the little hell-cat by the hand 
And raised the scourge, to pour it on to her, 

To cure her sauciness, when suddenly 
I knew no more. When I aroused myself 
The wench was gone. I burnt the harlot’s cottage, 
And thereby, for the present, ea«ed my itch 
For vengeance on the young witch and her dam. 
Mocero. You ’ve dealt too leniently with the whore. 
Bandoska. I know I have. Full many years ago 
I should have crushed her cursed chastity 
Beneath the iron heel of ruthless force. 

I have been fooled with some kind of damned love 
To think that by-and-by she would forget 
Imprisoned Terrol, and consent to wed me. 

And so I ’ve spared her prated chastity, 

And held my hand from her infernal child. 

But that is ended: I will kidnap her, 

Or by some sly device decoy her here; 

And once she enters, it will be slight task 
To play upon her belly while she plays 
Upon her back. As for that weed 
That grew up from that seed implanted in her 
By one that trespassed and sowed in a field 
That no one but myself could safely enter — 

Well, I will — it will perish from the earth. 

Mocero. There ! That is resolution of true shade; 


io8 


ROMANCIE. 


If you had done so years and years ago 
She by this time had learned to dearly love 
Her double play, with none but you for partner. 

I praise you in the manly resolution; 

Go forward, for before you is a goal 
Worth life-long toil to drop an anchor in. 

Bandoska. I ’ll lay my hulk alongside of her craft 
And board her soon, do n’t question that I will. 

But now to other business; You shall go 
At once to Golda and produce this will 
Unto the surrogate, and gain quick entrance 
Into the tenements of wealthy Golda. 

There will be none to question the validity 
Or authenticity of this last testament 
Of the deceased possessor of that dukedom. 

See here; I ’ve done a pretty piece of work 
Of forgery in this. Go, you, at once; 

I ’ll trust cupidity to teach the way 
To monstrous fraud for such unbounded pay. 

Mocero. I ’m ready now to go. Ere long you ’ll learn 
Mocero ’s rich as Lord of Undezerne. 

Bandoska. God speed you. Not so; ’t is not spoken well, 
For God won’t speed the wicked schemes of Hell. 


FOURTH SCENE. 

TerroVs cell in the dungeon. 

Terrol. Was that a step ? I thought I heard a footfall. 
But hopes seem raised forever to be killed. 

But yesterday just through that open door 
Two angels stood, and instant then they fled. 

A man can suffer agony and woe 

For years in calm that desperation brings, 

But there ’s no torture mortal man can know 


ROMANCIE. 


109 

That equals ruined hopes for better things. 

( Dainty looks through the bars.) 

Dainty. How many more live in these dark stone dens ? 
Terrol. Sense of my soul ! God, why so torture me I 
Accursed be you, thin phantoms that come around 
My cell to torment me. Curse you, I say. 

Dainty. Do n’t tear your shirt. I ’m not afraid of you. 
Terrol. What are you that comes in an angel’s form 
And speaks child’s sweet voice music in my cell ? 

Dainty. I ’m Dainty. 

Terrol. Dainty, then, is God’s own child. 

Let me come nearer. You talk like a mortal, 

But oh, it ’s sweet as music at God’s throne. 

Are you an angel ? 

Dainty. I ’m no more an angel 

Than you’re a devil. 

Terrol. Well, then I do n’t know. 

Dainty. I passed along and saw you yesterday, 

And thought I ’d come and find out who you are. 

Terrol. Were you there when the iron door stood open ? 
Dainty. Eh heh. 

Terrol. God bless you. 

Dainty. Tell me who you are. 

Terrol. I ’ve been so long here that I am nobody. 

Who are you, child ? 

Dainty. I ’m Dainty. 

Terrol. Dainty who ? 

Dainty. Just Dainty. Did you never hear of me ? 

I ’m known about as well as old horn devil. 

I guess 1 ’m just about as mean as he is. 

Please let me in. I like the looks of you. 

I think I ’ll let you kiss me — if you want to. 

How does it open ? It was open yesterday. 

Terrol. Oh God, you’ve sent the child to set me free ! 

I ’ll ope the door and have her prop it open, 

Aud then I ’ll rush for freedom eagerly 


I IO 


RO MANCIE. 


As the wild roe would leave pursuing hounds. 

(He sets the door open. Dainty steps just inside. The 
door starts to spring shut.) 

Beware, child ! 

(She starts to spring away but the door strikes her and 
knocks her down inside. He runs and lifts her , and paces 
the cell with her in his arms.) 

Have I then got you inside 
To share my doom with me ? Oh, sweetest child ! 

You said you liked the looks of me, my child, 

1 love your looks. Oh, beautiful ; oh, beautiful ! 

Arouse, child ; let me kiss your breath again. 

Dainty. Set me down. Oh you mean old ugly devil. 

I loved you, and spoke just as nice to you, 

And told you you might kiss me, and all that, 

And came into your mean old dirty house, 

And then you knocked me down. I hate you, sir. 

Terrol. No, do n’t, child ; do n’t. Your weight drove shut 
And as it shut, it struck you. I am so sorry. [the' door. 
Dainty. I ’d like to hate you awful, but I can’t. 

Terrol. I ’m glad you can’t, child. Just see how I weep. 

I ’d like to have your arms around my neck 
And feel your lovely lips my dry lips kiss. 

I love you more than just one else besides. 

(She hugs him and kisses him.) 

Dainty. Aint I nice now ? But then its ’cause I love. 

But how can I get out ? 

Terrol. I ’ll let you out; 

I ’ll step here on this plate and let you out. 

Oh dreaded, sovereign God ! it will not open. 

Oh child ! oh pretty child ! oh poor, sweet child ! 

You’re lost with me. Pray God to help you, child. 

Dainty. Why won’t it open ? 

Terrol. Child, I do not kiiow. 

I guess your weight upon the swinging floor 


RO MANCIE. 


Ill 


By some means interferes with motion there. 

It always opened when I stepped up here. 

Dainty. Well, pick me up, and may be it will open. 

{He takes her up and kisses her. Door opens.) 
Terrol. God, you will have to teach me how to thank you. 
Now run outside, child. {She steps down. Door closes.) 

Dainty. I just like that door; 

It lets me get into your arms again. 

It ’s funny how I love you at first sight. 

Terrol. Love at first sight is sweetest love of all 
Now you stand on the plate, and I ’ll step off. 

My angel child ! the door still stands ajar; 

We ’ll both get free. You stay on the plate, child. 

{He walks toward the door.) 

Dainty. Oh ! no you don’t, sir; I ’m too sharp for that. 

I ’ll step off. 

Terrol. No, child; you just keep your place. 

I ’ll step into the hall and get a stone 
Or prop of some kind to put in the door, 

And then we’ll both go out. Will you do that? 

Dainty. I ’m always pretty sharp; but I will trust you. 
{Just as his weight is taken off the floor the door springs 
shut with a jarring clang.) 

There, now, see what you ’ve done. 

Terrol. Ah ! if you knew 

And fully realized what has been done, 

Your big child heart would sink, and sinking, break. 

Dainty. I kissed you. 

Terrol. And I ’ve killed you for the kiss. 

Dainty. I hugged you. 

Terrol. And I slew you. 

Dainty. Let me out. 

Terrol. If I could go to Hell to liberate you, 

My heart shouts that I ’d thank God and leap down. 

Dainty. I- helped you out, and now you ’ve locked me in. 
Terrol. Ingratitude is worthiest of Hell 


I 12 


RO MANCIE. 


Of all the things I know. But worthiest Hell 
Is most unworthy Heaven. Death to you 
I ’ve traded for the life of me, a dog ! 

A wolf I An ingrate ! Oh, let me to Hell ! 

Sweet child ! to whom the free air is a right, 

And a necessity God would not take. 

Open your bars, damned doors ! Set wide ajar ! 

Take me into your bosom, Oh, damned cell I 
And I will count it going into Heaven, 

If entering may this child-angel free. 

{He beats the sharp steel bars with his clenched, bare 
hands.) [me cry. 

Dainty. Do n’t ! Do n’t ! Oh, do n’t do that ! It makes 
I know you did n’t do it to be devil. 

Terrol. No, but it ’s done, and I deserve but Hell. 

Child, you forgive me, will you, ere I die ? 

Remorse will kill me. Do you me forgive ? 

Dainty. You’ll play the devil to go off and die 
And leave me here. Then who will help me out ? 

You run along the hall and find a hole — 

Do n’t mind it if it does stink awful bad — 

Crawl out and run around a little hill, 

And you will find some people living there. 

Get them to come and help to let me out. 

Go quick ! the keepers will soon come and kill me. [ ers. 

Terrol. Oh, God ! I ’ll stay and fight Hell and the keep- 
I will defend you, child, while just one drop 
Of warm blood works yet in this heart of mine. 

Dainty. You ’ll wait and be killed, and let me die, 

When the one chance you have to save my life, 

Your own life, and give freedom to us both, 

You let it pass. Oh 1 who, dropped overboard, 

Will let the ship go by nor lift a voice 
To save himself and that one that leaped over 
Into the churning seas to rescue him. 

Go on ! Go on ! Go on ! They soon will come. 


ROMA NC IE. 


JI 3 

Terrol. Child, if one hair of you is harmed I ’ll wreak 
Hell’s vengeance on the harmer of that hair, 

Then follow you to Heaven or go to Hell. 

Good by. The leopard bounds not for his prey 
As swift as I will hasten on my way. 

Dainty. I just expect they ’ll come to kill poor me, 

But now he ’s gone and safe. I love him so. 

Poor mamma; it will make her cry so long. 

But she will know I loved her, and him, too. 

Oh ! Pity me, Oh God ! There comes a keeper ! 

Keeper. There is some food, dog; lick it from the dirt. 
{He tosses some scraps into the cell.) 

Come, get this water. I would throw it, too, 

But you could scarcely lap enough for life. 

Dainty {getting into a corner and trying to talk coarsely , 
like a man). Go give the water to some fiend in Hell. 
Perchance he ’ll thank you, but I never will. 

Keeper. Come instantly, or damn you I will fetch you. 

Do you hear, Terrol ? Do you hear, you hound ? f papa. 

Dainty {steps out). Oh, was it Terrol ? Then it was my 
Kill me ! I ’ve sent my papa to my mamma, 

And they ’ll be happy. Kill me if you will. 

Keeper. My life will pay the forfeit of escape, 

But your damned soul will taste hell-fire first. 

{He levels his revolver and aims at her head. She screams 
and runs to and fro to frustrate his aim.) [shoot I 

Dainty. Don’t shoot! don’t shoot! don’t shoot! don’t 
I loved him, but I did’nt know the reason. 

Help ! help ! Don’t shoot ! For God is watching you ! 

{He shoots. She clutches her breast and staggers) 

0 mamma Ivano ! O papa Terrol ! 

Your Dainty loved you both ! Shoot, if you dare ! 

1 stand here ! Shoot ! I ’m going home to God. 

But now Hell’s burning hotter for your soul. 

{He shoots. She throws out her arms and falls.) 


ROMANCIE. 


1 14 

Keeper. Bleed ! bleed ! slain wench ! I ’ll shed such floods 
of blood, 

That they will quench the flames of Hell around me. 

(j Dainty gasps.) 

Gnash, jade, at your departing breath in vain. 

Close up your lips and jaws as firm as Hell doors. 

But still your spirit will escape your body, 

And issue from the bullet holes I made. 

Well, I must tell Bandoska, though I fear 
That death for one of us will follow it. 

(. Dainty gasps again.) 

Begone, slow shade ! begone ! I ’ve made you free ! 


FIFTH SCENE. 

The cell in the dungeon , where Magera and Ivano are im- 
prisoned. 

Ivano. Since I have found that you are both alive, 

There is a great, delirious hope grown up, 

That Terrol, too, has for some unknown reason, 

Been spared to languish in this dungeon gaol. 

Magera. Let but my wife work liberation for us, 

And we will turn the cells of Tartar out, 

Or find him if he lives. God body hope, 

With Terrol’s living form ! Pray God he lives. [now 

Ivano. Suspense! Suspense! ’Tis maddening me even 
Magera. Calm, lady, calm I Beware how you surrender 
To that suspense. He is all powerful. 

He thrusts his scaly, leprous fingers through 
The sealed bars of the bosom, and suspends 
The heart — that swinging pendulum that beats 
The time of life, the body to the tomb, 

The soul to where life’s time has babeled it. 

Suspense is mighty. It can reach an arm 
Into the space of Heaven, and with hand 


RO MANCIE. 


“5 


Omnipotent almost seize on the sun 

And stop his rolling wheels. Beware suspense. 

In its terrific hands unconquered time 

Does undergo manipulation like 

The glass the blower moulds to studied forms. 

One little instant blown by hard suspense 

Does aggrandize the bound of its duration 

To limits wider than a mortal age. 

Suspense can (as a killing frost in spring 
Nips vegetation that did venture forth 
To wanton in her smiles), dash off the bloom 
From lusty cheeks of youth, and smite old age 
To realms beyond the reach of mortal’s ills. 
Suspense is winter to the blooms of spring, 

Hot sand storms to the desert oases, 

Mildews to fruits, the breath of pestilence 
To men. Suspense is he that can compress 
The horrors, much too dismal for an age, 

Into a minute’s space, and jam a life 
Into an hour, making life prepared 
For death before the flow of life begins. 

No wonder hair turns white within an hour 
Sometimes; that hour was a horrid era, 

Full of the speeches of despair and woe. 

A man might sleep denned in a cave of adders 
And dream of summer holidays, for charms 
Might guard him from the poison of their fangs. 
But needle-bosomed agony, suspense, 

Permits no sleep to one that rests thereon. 
Kemorse eats out the vitals of a man 
And makes of him a drear sepulchral chamber, 
Through which reverberating thunder rolls 
The song of that .wept crime his soul repents. 
Despair takes from beueath the habitation 
Of life its props, the pillars of its base, 

And lets it suck down, swamped in inanition. 


ROMANCIE . 


1 1 6 

Grief, smouldering grief that smothers in the heart, 

Consumes the vitals to a charry cinder 

From which the soul ascends as smoke of burning. 

But only fell suspense destroys a life 
By lengthening a minute of it out 
To horror, such that the discouraged human 
Grows tired of eternity’s slow time 
And crowds his vital forces out of store, 

Even like a clock that faults in its escapement 
And fevers through a day in clicking haste 
That spends two dozen hours while I ’m telling it. 

Let not suspense destroy you. Let us wait 
Refola’s action, imperturbed as fate. 

Ivano. The canker that destroys me is inaction. 

If I could take into my hands the reins 
Of my affairs, and urge upon the course 
That points to remedy, I could call off 
A part of this blood that throbs in my temples 
And use it in creation of such energy 
As I would need to breast the waves of fortune. 

Mag era. Calm ! calm ! I hear a step. Remember well, 
You must be what you are not, for a spell; 

And pray God’s grace that all will then be well. 

Keeper. I hope you ’re happy here. 

Mag era. You know you lie. 

When hope expressed may just as well be wish, 

And wish expressed may just as well be thought, 

And thought may just as well become the father 
Of the deed to work fulfillment of the hope — 

The hope expressed is nothing but a lie, 

And he that makes it but a flattering liar. 

Keeper. Well, keep you cool. If you ’re not happy here 
It is the fault of none except yourselves; 

For dispositions of a cheerful kind 
Will find a means of some good happiness 
And satisfaction in the vilest stall 


RO MANCIE. 


XI 7 

That fortune can allot. 

Magera. But, hellish men — 

Not fortune — do allot this station to us. 

Away ! lest I forget my manly rules, 

And stoop to cudgel you with my tongue’s end. 

Keeper. If the external things do n’t give joy, 

Create it for yourselves; you have the means. 

Magera. If it were not the action of a boy 
To yield to anger at a beast, I swear 
That I could burn with blazing wrath at you. 

Keeper. I better love to look on happiness 
Than misery, the more especially 
If happiness arrives of my suggestions 
Or from my efforts. 

Magera. Oh ! why will men lie, 

When God’s own truth is always answerable ? 

Keeper. But only to reflect upon that misery 
That we ourselves create for others sufferance 
Is misery of character more doleful 
Than any that we can reflect upon. 

Magera. Oh ! hypocrite ! go you and preach in hell. 

I think that there your qualities will gain 
A rich success, by hellish standards gauged. 

You prate to us of happiness, when, dog ! 

One little act that us would liberate 
Would preach a sermon of more solid weight 
Than all the mouth ings uttered in an age. 

The man whose finger dives into his purse, 

Or hand is ready to drop to his pocket 
To lift a coin for suffering’s relief, 

Is the philanthropist, and not that wind gun 

That shoots condolence volleyed in the air 

In “I am sorrys,” “Pity thems,” and “Too bads.” 

Act ! damn you ! act ! in actions that can travel 
Wayfarers with your speeches, and I then 
Will cease to tell you you’re a hypocrite, 


1 18 


RO MANCIE. 


And that your words are fabricated lies. 

Keeper. I and my brother keepers, as I said, 

Will be delighted to see you both happy. 

Mark you now. We are coming here this evening 
To see you pair, and go about to seek 
Your happiness, in manner so and so. 

Ivano. What means the monster ? 

Magera. Can you guess Hell’s mind? 

Keeper. We’d see you both denuded to a garment, 

So all the operations may be witnessed 
By the spectators, and not through a veil 
That renders to uncertainty the seeing. 

The sense of touch guide you; sight be our joy. 

Magera. Brute ! brute ! force can prevail against a man, 
But where the agency or power can 
Move me to be a beast by a command ? 

Oh ! curse the wall twixt your soul and my hand. 

Keeper. Why will you need a second bidding, sir, 

To what a single bidding is enough ? 

Will you go to it gladly, secretly, 

And wait for blows to drive you to delight 
In presence of some witnesses ? Out ! out ! 

If you will not smell of the blooming flower 
By our consent, its fragrance shall not waste, 

But we ourselves will sniff at the perfume. 

Choose you yourselves. Debate it to exhaustion. 

I leave you, now, but do not sorely grieve; 

For I will not deprive you of my company 
For very long. Adieu. Debate it well. 

Bandoska has pursued a lenient course 
Too long against the castle of your wife. 

He has kept up the siege ’gainst the outside; 

But castles that will be bombarded ages, 

And still present a strong, unbroken front 
To the projectiles, will, if once its gates 
Are penetrated by a proper charge, 


ROMAN C/E. 


I 


Fall into ruins, or, at least, set wide 

Its doors to future and promiscuous comers. 

If you do not, when we have come again, 

Shame your own wife even in our very presence, 

The miserablest state for woman will be hers: 

She lives, no more possessed of chastity. 

Ivano. Go to imagination for a model, 

And make of man a monster, hideous 
As wrought conception can conceive of him; 

Then walk the earth awhile, and you will find 
A monster man so much more hideous 
As dwarf misshapen to a lovely girl. 

Mag era. Refola did not well to leave us here. 

Ivano. Does the Hell villain mean it ? 

Magera. Did you know 

What we have learned in our imprisonment 
You would then know it by some odds more likely 
That he will execute the threat he made, 

Because they ’re brutal, void of human mercy, 
Unreasonable in villainy and dread, 

And horrible and hellish altogether. 

Oh would my sweet Refola, you were — what ! 

Would she were here yet ? No ! a million times ! 

But would that you were gone. 

Ivano. Sir, rather say 

Would that all creatures in the form of man 
Were men, or had no form or being else. 

Magera. Why did you stay the victim of their deeds ? 
They could not desecrate these senseless stones. 

Ivano. I staid to keep commotion quieted 
And soothe suspicion of attempted ’scape 
Until Refola works for us a rescue. 

Magera. The wife and husband should be side by side, 
For they do strengthen each the other’s standing, 

And so together stand in sturdy strength 
Of union God establishes and guards. 


120 


RO MANCIE. 


Ivano. Why, sir, she trusted that no harm would hap. 
She trusts you most implicitly. 

Magera. I know. 

Who might not trust his wife should never have her. 

The wife who cannot trust her husband weds — 

Weds Hell and not a husband at her wedding. 

Curse that abhorred and insignificant 
Low soul that harbors little rank suspicions 
Without a rigid cause. Suspicions ? gods ! 

Mistrustful ? gods ! And selfish to such height 

As wishes to monopolize the life 

Of spouse ? Oh, sweetest gods, make me not so. 

Let me not doubt, be selfish or suspicious, 

So long as virtue wears a spotless robe, 

For these are demons that do murder virtue. 

I ’d have my wife be social with the world, 

Affectionate with me. I ’d have my wife 
Deprive herself of no associations 
Of good society, but come to me 
To slumber in my arms at resting time, 

And taste the soul’s food, love and sympathy, 

At home. Yet I would never tell her so, 

Except as by my loving words and deeds 
I ’d teach the doors to their depositories. 

But married men and women should be jealous, 

For Jealousy is sweetest Love’s twin sister, 

As hard to separate as sound from music. 

But married men and women should not give 
Each other other cause than love for jealousy. 

Oh, wife and husband must or trust or weep. 

But trusting is no reason why a wife 

Should tempt her husband, or he tempt his wife. 

Trust ever, never tempt. Fool is the man 
Who swinging over roaring Hell, suspended 
By some good chain that holds him and has held, 

Yet wishes other weight attached, to try 


ROMANCIE. 


1 2 1 


If it will bear the strain. Damned fool he is ! 

Let that which proves sufficient then suffice. 

Do n’t tempt hot Hell to surge against your soul ! 

Do n’t put a weight upon a mortal’s shoulder 
To test his power to stand, but rather lift 
Part of his burden from his weary shoulders, 

Then rest assured that he can surely stand 
With what he then bears, since he stood before 
Beneath a weightier load. Earth had been Heaven 
If wife and husband always had assisted 
Each other side by side against a fall. 

I laud high as the sky that noble man 
Who trusts his wife. But I say of that man, 

Who asks another to his board and home 
And then insists his wife sleep with his company, 

That he is likely to become a cuckold, 

And shall not have my pity when he does. 

Life, if it be not lived for something, dies. 

And everything of worth and value rests 
On some support. The starry flowers bloom, 

The pure, sweet lily blows, within the sunshine. 

And I will say that chastity, and virtue, 

And innocence, and purity, and honor, 

And truth, nor nothing noble, can exist, 

Spring, grow and flourish without nourishment, 

Than can the lily grow beneath the ground. 

What is the food of all these noble virtues ? 

Love is their food, trust is their atmosphere, 

And sympathy the fluid of their drink. 

These three together are their life, their all. 

Ivano. But neither trust nor want of trust is blamed 
For our abhorred and miserable state. 

Let us investigate means of salvation, 

And fortify ourselves against our peril. 

Magera. There is no place exempt from Hell’s inroads 
But highest Heaven. Earth is dangerous. 


122 


ROMANCIE. 


Ivano. Then I will go to Heaven. Long ere this 
I had sought God’s realm had not Dainty lived. 

But earth seems very fair now since my child 
Lives on its surface; and seems fairer still 
Now that there is a hope that Terrol lives. 

But I will guard my chastity with death 
If the emergency demands such means. 

Magera. Where is the means of death in this black cell? 
Ivano. The will and purpose are the lane of means. 

I can stoop down and bound across this cell, 

And in the swift impetuosity 

Of my advance strike on the granite stones 

This habitation of my highest life. 

My brain by the momentum at the shock 
Crushed to a clotted pulp will drop its jewels, 

And this poor form will be a clod; a cold 
Inanimate thing that will cool the glow 
Of that vile lust that burns so hot as Hell. 

Magera. It shudders me. But let the scribe of God 
Record this, vow, and, broken it, I ’m perj ured. 

While life is left in me to lift my arm, 

Not twenty thugs as hellish as that dog 
Who threatened us shall make it necessary 
That you resort to such a means to save you. 

I will defend my liberty, my life, 

My love, my child, my relatives, my wife, 

My rights, their properties, while strength remain 
Tp wage such warfare as my right maintains. 

Ivano. I ’ll trust in God until my latest breath, 

And trust His mercy too, beyond my death. 


ROMANCIE. 


1 23 


FIFTH ACT. 


FIRST SCENE. 

The shore of the ocean above Undezerne. A ship lying off 
shore , Refola and Mother Gardy watching . 
Refola. That ’mincls me of a yacht which I have seen. 

I wish that we could read her figurehead. 

M. Gardy. See there, a boat comes off. 

Refola. Let us hide here, 

And wait to see if they be strangers coming. 

It may be more auxiliaries arrived 
To our most dreaded enemy, Bandoska, 

For crime has brothers up and down the world. 

M. Gardy. In Hell, too. 

Refola. Oh ! Hell peopled is with them. 

But come into the shadow of these ruins, 

And we will wait their landing. This old ruin 
Was once the dearest situated place 
In neighborhood of. dearest Undezerne. 

This was the boat house. It was at this spot, 

Full many dark and gloomy suns agone, 

That I, a merry girl, a loving girl, 

And young Magera, came to take a boat ride. 

The sun’s bright chariot wheels were rolling down 
The western swell of heaven’s vaulted dome, 

And this old ocean was a liquid realm 
Of precious metal, polished by a calm, 

And then, anon, broke into running swells. 

Sometimes it was a universe of gold. 

Sometimes it was an empire of sweet silver. 

Sometimes it was a sapphire main of color. 

Sometimes it was an emerald — whole world 


124 


ROMANCIE. 


Dissolved and glowing with its costly green — 
And then ’t would be as though angelic fingers 
Had sprinkled out of Heaven’s golden caskets 
The gemmy wealth those coffers must contain; 
For beryl, side by side with beds of onyx, 
Contended with the garnets and the rubys 
For place to flash upon the ocean’s brim. 

Turquois and chalcedony, pearl and opal, 
Carbuncle, amethist and chrysolite, 

Did float in baths of liquid alabaster 
Until, anon, the zephyrs sprinkled diamonds 
So thickly on the bosom of the main, 

That brilliants lit the colors of it all. 

Oh ! if an earthly girl could just become 
The queen of ocean, and have throat and arms 
And all her person ’domed with jewelry 
As glowed upon the goddess of the main 
That day, I think she must herself become 
A goddess creature, or her vanity 
Would turn her head to wantonness straightway. 
JDhis ruin then was a delightful bower, 

Climbed over by affectionate old ivy, 

That wound its wooing arms around the form 
Of this demolished structure, so that 1 
Had almost wished myself the clinging ivy, 

To be supported by my love, Magera. 

Inside this door, with arch now broken down, 
There was a seat built up of shells and coral, 

And cushioned with the flowering weeds of ocean. 
’T was built so that a person sitting in it 
Could rest the gaze upon the shore and sea, 

In one wide panorama spread around. 

I do recall that day as one of love. 

The ripples that came rolling to the shore 
Plashed on the pebbles, babbling sweetly, love. 

’T was such a time, I think, that if Magera 


ROMANCIE. 


12 5 


Had not, in sympathy with the surroundings, 

Told me his love, I first had told him mine. 

But he did hold my hand, I let him hold it ; 

And he did clasp my form, I let him clasp it ; 

And he did kiss my mouth, I let him kiss it ; 

And he did speak his love, I heard him speak it; 
And he did name me bride, I let him name me ; 
And he did name the day, I let him name it ; 

And held me in his arms, I let him hold me. 

I let him do what he was pleased to do, 

But he was pleased to do what I was pleased 
To let him do. I let him say what he 
Was pleased to say, but he was pleased to say 
What I was pleased to let him say. We sat 
Aud talked till sunset, and forgot our ride. 

He planned our future, and I listened to it 
And found not one improvement to suggest. 

And our life as he planned it ran along, 

A happy dream, that grew to a reality, 

Until away along the coast up yonder, 

Bandoska threw my baby and myself 
Into the sea, close by the coast of Golda, 

Oh, if I then had known what life would be, 

I never would have been Magera’s bride 
Or mother to his baby girl, Bomancie, 

But would have died that evening in his arms. 

M. Oardy. Not been Magera’s wife ! ha, ha, ha ! 
If all the woes, and horrors and calamities 
Of the real world, and the imagination 
Had menaced you for marrying Magera, 

You had dared them and stepped in his arms, 

And bought them for one sweet night in his arms, 
For torn from him had been more horrible 
Than horror and more dreadful than deep woe ; 

It had been these and Hell in overplus. 

Not been the mother to his babe, Bomancie ! 


126 


RO MANCIE. 


Why, silly girl, Refola ! you do jest. 

She was too sweet to threaten her that way. 

If you had not gone on and done your duty, 

Some other lady would. She was too sweet 
To be so banished from the baby world, 

And you would rather die ten million times 
Than have some other be Romancie’s mother. 

I would have been a mother to her, child, 

If you had not, for I would rather perish 
Than to have seen that baby girl,. Romancie, 

Kept from the world. I am her mother, too ; 

I ’m mother to nine-tenths the neighborhood. 

She never could have had two better mothers 
Than you and I. I ’m glad you were her mother, 

For if another had you cheated of 
The happiness of being his sweet bride, 

And honor of becoming his child’s mother, 

Grief would have killed you, and I would have died 
With grief at death of you. Oh, it was best 
The way it was. If lady lose her fortune 
She can yet hope for more, and get it, too. 

Why, if she loses earth she hopes for Heaven, 

And finds some happiness in such a hope, 

But if she loses her oue dearest love 
She cannot hope to ever find another, 

And must not hope for even that happiness 

’T would be to be the mother of his child. [Gardy. 

Refola , Well, how your tongue runs on, good Mother 

M. Gardy. A mother’s tongue is fluent of her child. 

That mother that gives birth to one brave boy, 

Or one sweet girl, and rears that boy or girl 
To the possession of good character 
And noble human virtues, has done more 
Than he whose fingers mold a noble state, 

For mothers furnished the materials 
Wherefrom his statesman’s fingers molded it, 


ROMANCIE. 


127 


And he himself was taught his rudiments 
In state creation by his good, sweet mother. 

Refold. I see you have no faith in man self-made; 

You give to man no honor for his life. 

M. Oardy. I heard a man say once, “It takes two women 
To make one man; ” and in my listening mind 
I said to him, “You should have been a woman.” 

Refold. Why? 

M. Odrdy. Why ? Because he knows a woman’s power, 
And does not grudge in paying her due honors. 

Refold. And what two women to create one man ? 

M. Odrdy. A mother to create the machine man, 

To put in it a soul of manly virtue, 

To put in it a spirit of high honor, 

To put in it a mind trained to great efforts, 

And make it like the skilled and mighty engine 
That feels within its heart a subtle power 
That scarce can reach the bound of its capacity. 

Refold. What then is lacking in its mechanism ? 

M. Gdrdy. There ’s nothing lacking, child; it is complete. 
But yet it needs a monitor or guide; 

It needs a prompter, or director-general, 

Or something to exert a guiding force 
To point its energies to a grand goal. 

Refold. May not the mother be ? 

M. Gdrdy. She is sometimes; 

But oftener a sweetheart, met perchance 
In time most apposite, like lightning, stirs 
Into the vital spirit of the man 
And rouses in him something he had never 
Known he possessed — ambition, self-felt power, 

And such vehement passion as cries, Forward I 
And still incites him to his enterprises 
O’er any obstacles that intervene. 

She points his steady purpose to a goal, 

He, with the powers nature gave to him, 


128 


ROMANCIE. 


Might never have looked up to but for her. 

Refold. Hist ! lo ! the boat is on the beachy sand. 

( Romancie , in man’s dress, and Noma come up the slope.) 
Refold. An honest pair; two open, honest faces. 

M. Gardy. See, one is ill; his comrade lends him aid. 
Refold. They come this way; they will discover us. 

M. Gardy. And what if so ? It is the earth we stand on. 
We ’ll seem to mind our business, or pleasure, 

And let them pass or speak us, as they will. 

Romancie. You should not put your arm around me, sir, 
Nor aid me any way in the ascent; 

It strikes aside the mask of my deception. 

Refola {aside). It is a lady ! Beautiful, sweet voice ! 
Noma. Why, I forgot. 

Romancie. Oh, I guess no one sees; 

Just put it back till we get up the hill. 

M. Gardy {aside). She don’t want to be taken at her word. 
Noma. Sweet sister; would that you were safely home ! 
Romancie. Hush; do n’t say so; I want to be with you. 

( They stop , close to the ruined boat house.) 

Squeeze me up close, then stoop and I will kiss you. 

{Aside.) Oh ! that if he only knew I ’m not his sister ! 

What will he think of all my fond caresses, 

When he discovers thd-t we are no kin ? 

M. Gardy {aside). What complicated mystery is this ? 
Romancie {aside). I need my mothers counsel in these 
But she abandoned me long years ago [ times. 

In strauger hands. 

M. Gardy {aside). Why child, why tremble so? 

Ref ola {aside.) Hush! Listen closely. 

Norna. It seems to me that I shall deeply envy 
The man who takes my sister after while; 

For he will get a girl too good for any man. 

Romancie. Oh ! None shall ever have me but yourself. 

I ’ll stay with you and love you ever dearly, 

And be your girl forever— if you will let me. 


RO MANCIE. 


129 


Noma. Now that is good, but maybe after while 
I ’ll find somebody that will want your room. [eous God. 

Romancie ( turning aside). Forbid it for my sake 0 right- 
I must tell him, and yet I am afraid. 

Noma. Nothing to say, pet ? 

Romancie. Why, I ’ll pull her hair. 

Noma. Ha ! ha ! We love each other very fondly. 

I’ll do the same for that man that displaced me. 

Romancie. I tell you that I’ll love no other man, 

But you won’t tell me anything like that. [of it. 

Noma ( kisses her.) ’Tis a queer theme, and often we talk 
Is it not strange now that the men don’t come ? 

The officer, you do remember, promised 
To come with force sufficient to surround 
The palace and cut off all hope of liberty. 

Ah ! Damned, damned fiends, the net is drawing closer. 

Romancie. I ’m going to ask him what his love would be 
If he should find that I am not his sister. 

Yet, how can I so word the delicate question 
That he will not in partial act recoil 
As though my thought did point to barbarism ? 

Yet, I will ask him. Norna, I have thought — 

Noma. Have thought ? 

Romancie. That you would — 

Noma. Well ? 

Romancie. I dream sometimes — 

Noma. You dream? Of what? 

Romancie. I wonder if you would — 

Norna. Yes? 

Romancie. No, I do believe that you would not — 

Noma. Would not what? Speak. Why such a rosy blush ? 
Romancie. I guess I will not ask you if I’m blushing. 

I do not want to ask you when I’m blushing. 

I want to look up calmly in your face, 

And ask you something that will much surprise you. 

I do not want to blush until you answer* 

—9 


i3° 


RO MANCIE. 


And when you’ve answered, I may want to blush, 

Or let my lips and cheeks and face grow pallid. 

But I don’t want to ask it till I feel 

That I can ask and blush not with the asking, 

And hear your answer and not blush nor pale. 

I want to be possessed of self completely. 

May I look up now to your face and try ? ( kiss). 

Noma ( clasps her). You may look up like this to get my 
What troubles you, sweet sister ? Here ’s a tear. 

Romancie. My Norn a ! 

Noma. My sweet love ! 

Refola {aside). God make me calm. 

Peep, Mother Gardy. Does she look like me ? 

M. Gardy {aside). Look like you, child ? 

Refola {aside). Does she look like Magera ? 

M. Gardy. Be calm, child, do. Does she look like Magera? 
Refola. My bosom heaves to her as for my child. 

See how my eyes weep at her secret troubles. 

She looks like me. Her lips are like Magera’s. 

M. Gardy. Shake off this hope forlorn. Oh, do be calm. 
Romancie. My loved, sweet Norna ! 

Noma. My sweet love, Romancie. 

Refola. My child ! my child ! Romancie ! Oh, my child ! 
{She runs and clings to Romancie ; kisses her , strokes her , 
fondles her , kisses her again , calls her by name and “child.” 
Romancie is dazed and stupefied.) 

My child ! my child ! Romancie ! Oh, my child ! 

Norna. Cease, woman, cease ! Release my sister. Cease ! 
M. Gardy. Romancie is her child; she is her mother. 
Leave her alone; I will explain it all. 

Refola. Romancie ! speak to me ! You are my child ! 
Back ! back I she is my child 1 You are my child ! 

We were thrown in the waves; God rescued us. 

You are my child ! my child 1 my child ! my child ! 

Say, “Mamma.” 

Romancie. Mamma ! 


RO MANCIE. 


L3 1 


Refold. Oh, my child ! Romancie ! 

Noma. Out, you adventuress ! she is my sister; 

My wept-for mother is in Heaven, long since. 

Refold. Speak my name — mamma — as yon did that time. 
Let the sweet tone tell him you are my child. 

Romancie. Mamma ! mamma ! She is my mamma, Norna. 
M. Oardy. She is her mother, sir; and so am 1 . [gone ! 
Norna. In God’s name; you, too ? Beldames ! hags ! be- 
Romancie. No, Norna, no; she is my mamma. Mamma! 
My papa Golda told me everything; 

My mamma is not dead. She is my mamma. 

Norna. Oh, if it be so let me not be cold; 

But let me, too, kiss her and call her, “Mamma.” 

Romancie. She ’s not your mamma; I am not your sister ! 
Come kiss her, for she is my mamma, Norna. 

Wait ! wait a little while, and I ’ll explain. 

Oh, mamma ! there is surely no mistake. 

( They clasp , and stoop upon each other’s shoulders.) 

M. Oardy. Come; I ’ll explain. Leave them awhile 
together. 

( Mother Oardy and Norna walk away.) 

Refold. I can’t talk rationally to you, child. 

My sweet ! my pretty child ! my babe, Romancie ! 

I want to kiss you, clasp you, live to love you only ! 

Romancie. My papa Golda — he is dead, sweet mamma — 
He told me everything; but when you ran 
To me so wildly, and called me your child 
I would have known you, mamma, anyhow. 

All can be acted but a human heart. 

There was such love and wild joy in your cry ! 

But, my real papa — is he living, too? 

Refola. Oh I living and yet dead; dead, yet alive; 
Entombed, but breathing; living, yet entombed. 

These long, long years since I left you, my babe, 

We ’ve been but wretched beings in a tomb. 

Bandoska and Mocero — child, you shudder — 


ROMANCIE. 


* 3 2 

Imprisoned us, and tortured us so dreadfully I 
God sent a means of liberation to me; 

And by God’s help we ’ll set our papa free. 

Romancie. The officers and many men are coming. 
Refold. And I am rousing up my citizens, 

My old retainers and attendants here; 

For 1 ’m the Duchess of sweet Undezerne. 

My old attendants drop upon their knees 
And clasp my limbs, and look up in my face, 

While big tears trickle down their loyal cheeks; 

They hear my tale, and straightway league with me. 

The hour draws on. At an appointed time 
The citizens will furiously storm 
The old bastile and palace, to cut off 
To close all avenues against our foes 
And throw a guard around the prisoner. 

See ! yonder march some men. They are the citizens. 

I will tell Mother Gardy and the young man. 

{She starts away.) 

Romancie. How can I meet him, mamma ? 

Refold {going out). Your heart tell you. 

Romancie. If I had never been so loving to him — 

He knows now that I knew it all the time. 

But I so loved him that my love compelled me 
To what my maiden modesty regrets. 

{She sits down upon, or rather leans against, a rock that 
reaches up to her hips. Noma enters after a pause. lie 
goes close to her ; she does not look up. He takes the hand 
that rests upon the stone. He softly steals his arm around 
her and stoops to look into her face.) 

Noma. Your brother wants to give you his last kiss. [Hiss. 
The time is precious now and shouts to action. 

Komancie ! more than sister ! my heart loves you ! 

My first kiss. Sweet, I love you. One more now. 

I must away. You stay with Mother Gardy. 


RO MANCIE. 


x 33 


We’ll meet again, and then I ’ll ask you something. 

Love me till then ; then answer me a — {Kiss. 

Romancie. I ’ll go with you. I do not want to stay. 

( Officers and squad enter from one side , citizens from the other.) 
Noma. In time, men ; come. Now, gentle lady, lead. 
Refola. Sweet friends, come on. I ’ll lead the rapid way. 
( Clinging to Romancie , she leads them out.) 


SECOND SCENE. 

An apartment in JJndezerne. Bandoska present. Enter 
the Keeper who slew Dainty. 

Keeper. Is not Mocero here ? 

Bandoska. He is not here ; 

And I may superadd, will not be here 
For many days. For he has gone to claim, 

As is the custom of the country’s laws, 

Immediate possession of inheritances 
That lately have been left him : And he then 
Must have the will whereby he got the estates 
Admitted to the court of surrogate. 

So he may not be seen for some good time. 

What is afoot ? May be that I can minister 
Instead of him, and supervise his business. 

Keeper. I wish him here. 

Bandoska. What boots a bootless wish ? 

What is afoot ? 

Keeper. Bad news I bring. 

Bandoska. Bad news ! 

Keeper. I must disclose it, for time lost delaying 
Perchance might let the tidings grow much worse. 

Bandoska. Have they, the prisoners, escaped the jail ? 
Are they at large, Magera and Refola ? 

Keeper. No — 


134 


ROMANCIE. 


Bandoska. Dead ? Which ? Glad of it. It takes from me 
One-half my task. Which is it that is dead ? 

Keeper. No one is dead, but — 

Bandoska. God Almighty ! Speak ! 

Why do n’t you let me know what calls for action 
In time that action may be of some efficacy ? 

Keeper. He, Terrol, has escaped. A — 

Bandoska {seizing a sword). Hell gets you ! 

Keeper. Hell gets you then. Your bosom be my target. 
Bandoska. Don’t shoot. I flew into a horrid rage 
That would have vented useless spite on you. 

Forgive. Let us be friends. We must to work. 

Keeper. And treachery will stab me in the back. 

Swear by that God that you so oft blaspheme, 

That Hell to which you have consigned your soul, 

That honor that you know not as a man, 

That honor that you violate as criminal, 

Your father’s name, your mother’s chastity, 

And everything that you should hold as sacred, 

That you will do to me no secret injury. 

Bandoska. By all these oaths and more I swear I won’t. 
Keeper. Well then, beware ! for I will watch you closely. 
And if I find you studying at perfidy, 

I’ll blow you from this property you keep 
So desperately and at such great pains 
To an estate eternity will seal to you. 

Bandoska. Do you thus in the visage of my oath 
Dare to insinuate that 1 will perjure ? 

Keeper. Enough. I have not said it. But beware ! 

By some infernal art that varlet Dainty 
Is locked in Terrol’s cell, and he is gone. 

Bandoska. Come ! Let us to the dungeon; there to rend 
Her heart to blood and shreds of tattered fiber. 

Keeper. I put a bullet through her heart and brain 
Before I left to bring the news to you. 

Bandoska. This deed is off-set to the other one; 


ROMANCIE. 


*35 


I mean tlie prison broken through by Terrol. 

(As though speaking to some one behind the keeper. ) 
Well, now, what news do you bring ? Good or bad ? 

(The keeper turns and Bandoska stabs him through.) 
Keeper. O damned ! Go on. You ’re to the tether’s end. 
Your soul, the heavier with this crime and perjury, 

Will pass mine falling and drop first into Hell. 

Ah ! Could I lift a hand, I ’d point to scorn 
Your base, atrocious treachery and perjury. 

Bandoska. I ’d have you dead. Say no more prophecies. 
(Again he thrusts into the keeper’s breast. He coolly wipes 
the reeking blade. A noise outside. He covers the keeper’s 
body hastily. A keeper enters.) 

Keeper. Oh ! sir ! Refola has escaped the dungeon, 

And Ivano is in the cell in her stead. 

We went to rape her as you had instructed, 

But found the cell close fastened from inside. 

In trying to get in and beating round, 

We did discover what exchange was made. 

I came at once to know what shall be done. 

(Bandoska seizes the other keeper’s pistol from the floor and 
shoots the speaker dead.) 

Bandoska. By God ! I fear I slay my best supporters. 
Now to the palace to destroy Magera, 

And in the damned cell violate Ivano. 


THIRD SCENE. 

Magera’ s cell in the bastile. Ivano holding the great iron 
door shut with the assistance of a stone dug loose from the 
floor and used as a brace. Keepers battering from the 
outside. 

Ivano. For life, go to the heavy task again. 

Magera. For life? No! But for more than life I will. 
Yet I have heaved the heavy flag in air, 

And crushed it down again so many times, 


ROMANCIE. 


136 

That nerves unstrung and muscles impotent 
From hard strained exercise can scarcely lift 
Its weight above the floor. But more than life 
Hangs on our strength to hold the shutter closed. 

{He lifts a huge stone and crushes it down again in the at- 
tempt to loosen another curb from the massive pave.) 

Keeper. Inside there ! ope the door: you shall be treated 
As honorable prisoners of fate. 

Ivano. Keep up the bang; we love its music well, 

And we will rather trust security, 

In walls of stone, than in the perjury 
Of treacherous foes. Keep up the bang and clatter. 

Keeper. Hear me, then, swear, if you by obstinacy 
Enforce us to an entrance ’gainst your will 
Your will shall then repel not our forced entrance. 

Magera. A man will make a castle of his bastile: 

A craven languishes in any stronghold. 

Come through the doors, first, and then taste my fury. 

You meet me, and the shock will blood effuse. [ you, sir. 
Ivano ( aside to Magera). Keep closer in the angle, pray 

0 God ! if they should find that aperture 
Above there. 

Magera. They well know of it, be sure. 

But I believe we have a helper there; 

1 think I heard a footfall in the corridors 
Above, and I believe I heard a voice 

Of warning there was danger in advancing. 

Ivano. It must be God, then, or God’s angels there. 

There ’s but one keeper now assaulting here, 

Where may the others be ? 

Magera. Gone for assistance. 

Ivano. Then God send reinforcements to our aid. 

(A rush through the hall above. A pistol shot. A retreat . ) 

Pop-eyed Pete {outside above). Repulse the malefactors 
And the vindictive and inhuman devils [there below. 
Shall not surprise you at this aperture. 


ROMANCIE. 


*37 


We are only young probationers at war, 

But we are rendered quite impregnable 
Behind a barricade. Keep up your courage. [strength. 
Ivano. Who are you, friends? your names will give us 
Pop-eyed Pete. Suffice it to assert that we are friends. 
Some two of us are here doing sentinel duty, 

Sometimes engaged repelling useless charges. 

( A keeper who has climbed into the embrasure thrusts a re- 
volver through and fires at random into the angle. Magera 
crushes his arm with a stone.) 

Keeper. By hate of Hell ! that blow has cost you torture 
Ten million times beyond a broken arm: 

By slow incisions I will strip the covering 
From every nerve’s most sensitive ramifications, 

And ope them to the damp, infectious air. 

I ’ll sling-compress your head until your brain 
Will groan for room, and your bulged eyes will start, 

’Neath which I’ll thrust my fingers and them wrench 
From their swift-weeping sockets; after which 
I’ll thrust them down your throat. Assault again ! 

Revenge is burning to begin the torture. 

I ’ll break the bones in every separate member 
For these bones they have broken in my arm. 

I will incinerate their hellish forms by inches. 

I’ll weight his chest until the groaning luniis, 

Instead of air, will gush blood from his nostrils. 

Hell’s torture will be prayed for in comparison. 

Bandoska. Have you no bombs or powder to blow down 
The cell upon their heads ? Assault ! assault ! 

Go to the aperture and shoot them down. 

Keeper. It is defended by some unknown persons, 
Perchance Refola and that devil, Terrol. 

Ivano. Oh! Terrol! Terrol! oh thank God he lives. 

( Forgetfully she releases the door. Beginning the assault 
just at this instant with redoubling fury , the doors are forced 
and Bandoska and the two keeper's rush in.) [ Help 1 

Ivano. Help ! Help ! Oh, God protect us ! Help ! Help ! 


ROMANCIE. 


133 

( Magera grapples BandosJca and they go down. A keeper 
knocks Ivano down. Terrol enters and the two keepers grap- 
ple him. They struggle and surge to and fro. Pop-eyed 
Pete throws a coil through the aperture and after descending 
part way leaps bodily upon one of the keepers. T he keeper 
is borne down by his weight and momentum , but recovering, 
stretches Pete insensible with a blow. Dainty tries to get an 
opportunity to fire from above , but is afraid to lest she wound 
or kill a friend.) 

Dainty. Fight, papa Terrol, and I ’ll come to help. ( She 
runs away. Ivano recovers.) 

Ivano. Oh, Terrol, Terrol ! God will strike for us. 

( She joins in the conf usion of the struggle. Refola enters 
and , screaming , flies to assist Magera. Romancie enters , 
and, running into the hall, calls to the crowd she has left be- 
hind. Noma enters, and with a clubbed revolver strikes 
Bandoska down. The officers and citizens rush in and over- 
power the keepers.) 

Ivano. Terrol I Alive ! Mine now forever, Terrol ! 

Terrol. My wife I Faith constant as the eternal Heavens ! 

Refola. Magera I Freedom for you ! Here ’s our babe. 
Romancie ! Oh, Magera, God is good. 

Ivano. Our baby, papa Terrol; you knew of her. 

Our baby, our sweet girl, our idol — Dainty. 

Terrol. Our baby, Dainty I Did you say our child ? 

A girl — a brave, sweet girl, bold as the lion ? 

A round, plump form, a voice as sweet as music, 

But independent as the winds of heaven ? 

A girl as you were years and years ago, 

But hair a darker auburn and eyes bluer ? 

Ivano. The same. Why, has sweet Heaven in a dream — 

Terrol. Oh God ! The angel, then, was my own child ! 

( Lifting Ivano, he hurries into the hall. Scarcely are they 
gone when Dainty comes in.) 

Dainty. Where is my mamma Ivano ? O ! 

( She runs and lifts the boy Pete upon her lap. She kisses 
him.) 


RO MANCIE. 


1 39 


Pete ! Pete ! Brave soldier, Pete ! Awaken, Pete ! 

We kept them back till help came, did n’t we ? 

Ha, ha ! We held the fortress till help came. 

It takes a host to get ahead of Pete 

When Dainty comes to help him hold the fort. 

( The hoarse murmurs of the mob are stilled , and the crowd, 
many weeping at the piteous pleading of the child , gather 
round.) 

Pete ! Pete ! We ’ve fought our battles out together, 

And broken jokes upon each other’s head 
Through all these years till now. Now must it end ? 

Refola. Our guardian angel and deliverer, 

Let stronger hands revive the senseless boy. 

God ! do not let the bliss of this glad time 
Be bittered by the death of our defender. 

Dainty. No, let me hold him, but stoop down beside him 
And waken him. Pete ! Pete ! I love you, Pete. 
Bandoska. Gag the damned, whining varlet. 

Keepers. Choke her off. 

( The mob growls ominously again , but the officers rank 
around the prisoners .) 

Dainty. Will he awaken ? 

Refola {chafing his hands). Yes, child, presently. [ you. 
Dainty. Pete ! Pete ! I am so glad. I guess I ’ll love 
Bandoska. You hireling minions of that bitch’s dam, 

Give us a chance ! We ’ll fight you one to ten ! 

( The menaces of the mob grow to a sullen roar. Roman- 
cie enters with a goblet of water; stooping , she kisses Dainty 
and bathes the boy's face in cool , fresh rain; she opens his 
doublet and sprinkles the drops upon his chest.) 

Dainty. Will he get well? 

Romancie. Yes, love; he is recovering. 

Dainty. Pete I Pete ! I ’spect I ’ll love you some day, Pete. 

{Pete recovers; Dainty gets up . ) 

Romancie. Brave, noble boy ! 

Dainty. I ’m right here by you, Pete; 


140 


ROMAKCIE. 


I am your friend, and think a good deal of you; 

I won’t joke you throughout a long, long week. 

Can you get up ? Come in the open air. 

(As they pass Bandoska and the Keeper attempt to strike 
them. The mob breaks into riot; revolvers flash in many 
hands.) 

Officer. They are our prisoners; we will protect them. 
Mob. Some tear the men away ! Some slay the dogs ! 
Bandoska. Ha ! ha ! you babies ! Sweat and pant and roar 
The dog that barks will bite when he ’s compelled to. 

( Officers and mob begin a struggle.) 

Romancie. Men ! men ! Be men, and listen to Romancie ! 
Officer. Cease, ruffians, and let the lady speak. 

Romancie. There is a God ! He is the Supreme Judge. 
Shall men usurp a vengeance he calls his ! 

Oh, human life ! how sweet, how sweet it is ! 

God gives it; men should never it destroy. 

In finite reason they have forfeited 
A thousand times existence they have turned 
To ends perverted from intended courses. 

But are men greater judges than their God ? 

He does not take their lives: I wonder why ? 

It must be that he spares a recreant breath 
To give wide scope to his eternal mercy. 

He hates to doom a mortal’s soul to Hell; 

He hates to cut the tree of vigor down 
And doom, as must be doomed, a soul so freed; 

He weighs life lightly ’gainst a precious soul; 

And he will sometimes let a criminal, 

A bloody man, do murder on an innocent 
Before he ’ll doom a guilty soul by death; 

He ’ll sometimes let a criminal so run 

The bleeding, groaning, weeping course of Hell 

That it does seem he almost favors Hell. 

Why is this so? Why do the guilty triumph, 

And the poor innocent weep their harsh wrongs ? 


RO MANCIE. 


H 1 


I ’ll tell you why — I have already told you. 

It is because God weighs these earthly things 
As fickle trash ’gainst an eternal soul. 

He has not slain these crime-steeped monsters. Why ? 

He gives them life to give extended time 
For them to taste His blessed, boundless mercy, 

Repent, and turn from endless woe in Hell. 

Then will you hurl their souls into perdition. 

The clouded flames of their lives now extinguish, 

When God Almighty’s judgment verdicts differently ? 

Oh pause ! oh pause ! oh pause ! and think in time. 

Why will you kill them? What stirs up your rage ? 

Turn ! look behind you ! Do you see that fiend 
That pours the flood of wrath into your ears 
And by the eloquence of Hell incites 
You to these awful crimes ? — for they are crimes. 

It is revenge that stirs your choler so ! 

*T is hate ! ’t is rage ! And these make your hands bloody 
As are the hands of those you execute. 

Why will you murder them? Can one reply? 

Because they ’re murderers you murder them. 

Have you weighed their acts in the scales of justice? 

Have you tried, found them guilty, and them sentenced ? 
No ! you give tether to a lingering tinge 
Of barbarism and, in fury of revenge, 

Do murder. Why ? Why do you murder them ? 

They ’ve killed ! They ’ve wronged ! They ’ve forfeited 
their lives. 

To whom ? To God. But God delays to take it. [killed. 
Whom else ? To those they ’ve wronged, and those they ’ve 
God grants the man the noble privilege 
To make defense of his life and his sustenance 
Whereby his life may live. And in defense 
If life is slain, the lawful deed is well. 

But no man, no men, no towns, counties, cities, 

Nor mighty corporations men call State, 


142 


ROMANCIE. 


May take a life except in self-defense. 

With all my soul I liate this capital punishment 
That coolly goes about to kill a man. 

When shall this last barbaric custom cease ? 

But why does a municipality 

Destroy a life? Or rather, why society ? 

Because the life endangers that society. 

A crime against society does give 
Society the right to guard itself, 

And in defense, if need be, take a life. 

Yes. If a man assaults another man, 

Assaults his life in its clay citadel, 

The hand may lift to kill in self-defense ; 

And if a man assaults society, 

Society in its own self-defense 

May kill the man, may take away his life. 

What ! lay his mortal body in the tomb, 

And send his soul to judgment ’fore his God ? 

No, no ! What life then ? Why, his civil life ; 

The only life society can give, his social life. 

This may be done by dooming him to prison ; 

For all his rights and liberties society 
Has given him he forfeited by injustice. 

But life is not as dear, you say, as freedom ! 

Then why not take the life and end it all ? 

Oh, I will tell you why. It does not cross 
The will of God, but works the social end. 

The man who goes to prison for his life, 

Dies in the dread society had of him, 

But yet may linger to repent his soul, 

And save it from eternity’s damnation. 

Oh, I can speak no longer. Men, be men ! 

Me they have wronged by wronging my loved papa ; 

Me they have wronged by wronging my sweet mamma; 
But God forbid that my heart be so small 
There ’s room in it for nothing but revenge. 


RO MANCIE. 


H3 


They are our foes, and they attempt our lives, 

And for that they should die ; and let them die — 

In penitentiary prison let them die. 

We ’re happy now. It is a happy day ; 

Cast not a cloud across the sky of pleasure 
By a dark, cruel slaughter for revenge. 

On my knees, men, I pray for their poor lives. 

Smile, men, oh smile ! Or here upon my knees 
I ’ll kneel until you chide from off your faces 
These hideous scowls of dreadful rage and purpose. 

Oh papa, mamma, do you know these men ? 

Speak, speak ! Romancie’s tongue can speak no longer. 

( Noma draws her into his arms and clasps her upon his 
breast; a calm of suspense rests throughout the cell ; how will 
it end f All fear to speak. A motion of rage will lay them 
in blood , a movement of mercy will spare them.) 

The angel Mercy spreads her downy pinions 
Above us, whispering, “Oh, cast out revenge !” [live. 
Man. They live, child; weep no more. These men shall 
{Romancie turns to Noma, rests a hand on either shoulder , 
and looks into his face. He stoops to kiss her.) 

Noma. My bride ! 

Romancie. My love ! 

(A commotion in the corridor. Terrol comes wildly in, 
dragging Ivano clinging to his arm.) 

Terrol. Revenge ! God pardon me ! Revenge I crave ! 

I can forget my wrongs. I had, God pardon me, 

Almost forgot the wrongs of Ivano. 

But they have slain my child ! Hell gets their souls ! 

[He assaults the officers with horrible desperation.) 
Ivano. O husband, let us weep our loss in woe. 

But let us stand not on our Dainty’s tomb, 

And put a crime between our souls and hers, 

Where she looks down and beckons us to Heaven 
Refola. She is alive and well. O Dainty ! Dainty ! 

( They bring Dainty and Pete in.) 


H4 


ROMANCIE. 


Ivano. My child ! [She clasps Dainty . 

Terrol. My wife and child. {He clasps them both. Tice 
men and officers go with Bandoska and the keepers who have 
calmed since Romancie spoke for them.) 

Dainty. Take Pete in, too, and let him be your boy. 

He has n’t got a papa or a mamma. 

But I won’t be his sister. But he helped me. 

He took me from the cell where I was shot. 

I was n’t shot bad, but I fell like dead, 

So he would stop and not keep shootin’ at me. 

Ha ! ha ! It takes a good one to beat Dainty. 

[Ivano takes Pete in an embrace.) 

Then we found out they meant harm to the others, 

And stole the pistols from the room they sleep in, 

And watched beside that hole to keep them off. 

Because I knew when papa left me there, 

Locked in the cell, (I did n’t know ’twas papa,) 

That he would soon come back and bring some help. 

I did n’t shoot much, ’cause I was afraid; 

But Pop-eyed Pete popped at them every time. 

Imno. He shall not want for parents while we live. 
Refola. More reasons have we to proclaim as much. 

( Terrol and Ivano, Dainty and Pete between them. Ma- 
gera and Refola, Borna and Romancie.) 


FOURTH SCENE. 

A hall in Oolda Palace. 

Steward. Good order everywhere. No head apparent. 
Yet every member does its proper functions 
And acts harmoniously, a general whole. 

Each servant and attendant knows his duty, 

And does it without orders, waiting restlessly 
The coming of the lady and the lord. 

Ah me ! Old Golda palace has been stricken, 


RO MANCIE. 


H5 


But youth and youth’s glad deeds will make it smile 
{Mocero enters.) 

Ho, servants ! O damned fiend ! to dare the fury 
Of neighborhood your horrid acts have wronged. 

The lord and lady, gone to seek for you, 

Would better be at home to welcome you 
In manner fitting with their love for you. 

But since they are not, we, our lady’s servants, 

And agents of her will, will welcome you. 

Mocero. Read here. [. Produces the bogus will. 

Steward. How does it mean ? 

Mocero. It means just this: 

That I am lord of Golda palace here, 

And come by law to claim inheritance, 

As first act, then to stand in surrogate 
And be installed herein by the authority 
Of probate. I was here some days ago, 

But did not show my claim as now I show it. 

Steward. But Norna, sir, the son, sir, and Romancie? 
Mocero. Both dead; you know it well. Obeisance to me. 
Steward {aside). Oh ! rank impostor ! yet hedged carefully 
Behind a shrewd device well fortified. 

Oh ! Norna and Romancie ! my lord, my lady. 

Mocero. Learn manners from the moon, that thirty days 
Revolves, yet keeps her face turned to the world. 

Learn manners from the moon ! Confront me, sir ! 

Steward. The moon is a good courtier, most certainly, 
And knows the lordly state of that great one 
She keeps her smiling face intent upon. 

But were myself the moon and you the world, 

I ’d do as now I do, turn my rump to you. 

Mocei'o. Begone ! you are discharged, sir, from my service. 
Steward. Oh, no, I ’m not; I had not entered it. 

I, sir, serve men, and serve in manly manner. 

The beastly snarling of a dog I laugh at. 

Ta, ta I Come, puppy; come, Feew ! Feew I ta, ta I 
-10 


ROMANCIE. 


146 

{Mocero rings. An attendant enters. He explains to the 
attendant his authority , then says:) 

Bring me the wardens of the halls and chambers. 

{After a time they file in.) 

Bring it at once 1 
Warden. Sir? 

Mocero. Carve it to the heart ! 

Warden. Most gladly, if you mean yourself by “it.” 
Mocero. Dig down and level up ! 

Warden. What ? 

Mocero. Brace to the beam. 

Warden. Go plumb to Hell ! 

Mocero. Cut it a brilliant gem. 

Warden. Take care we do n’t cut you. 

Mocero. A ligature. 

Warden. Kiss where I can ’t. 

Mocero. Bring me a lapidary. 

Warden. Does lapidary mean a bit of hemp ? 

Mocero {singing). Six little angels descend down, 
Descend down, descend down, 

Six little angels descend down, 

All descend down. 

Wardens ( singing ). Six little angels ascend up, 

Ascend up, ascend up, 

Six little angels ascend up, 

All ascend up. 

Mocero. What 1 ruffians ! you blackguard in my presence ! 
How dare you so insult my decency ? 

How dare you so red blush my modesty ? 

How dare you so corrupt my sterling morals 
As to sing to me angels ascend up ? 

Why could you not sing angels butt-end up ? 

Besides, you murder grammar in your singing! 

And you are lousy with vulgarity. 

Begone ! you are no longer needed here. 

Wardens. Go plumb to Hell ! [ They stand in the hallways. 


RO MANCIE. 


T 47 


Mocero. 


Bring me the butlers, sir. 
{After a time the butlers come in.) 


Paint it in such perspective as is proper. 
Butler. What do you mean ? 


Mocero. 


Dress it in country fashion. 


Butler. We ’ll dress you presently. 


Mocero. 

Butler . We’ll plant you. 
Butler. 


Yes, and dig him up again. 


Plant corn and beans. 


Butler. Then plant him deeper. 


Warden. 


Do you think he ’ll grow ? 


Warden. Yes, downwards, deep as Hell. 


Mocero. 


Set up a pillar. 


Butler. Yes, a tombstone for you. 


Butler. 


With this inscription: 


“Here lies a worthless cur beneath this sod; 

By mortals hated, and abhorred by God.” 

Mocero. Profanity to me ! You will corrupt me ! 

Shall I — fresh from the bosom of my home 
And the instructions of my pious mother — 

Be poisoned by your blasphemy, you knaves ? 

You said, “By God,” and now I say, by God 
You are no longer wanted. Get you gone ! 

Butler. This world, one more, and then — the fireworks. 
Butler. Proceed with your rat-killing, if you think 
There is no Hell. [ They stand in the hallways. 

Warden. A day for snakes is dawning. 

Mocero. Bring in the hostlers and the groomsmen, sir. 
{After a time they fie in.) 

Sew them with double seams. 

Hostler. The horses, sir ? 

Mocero. Make the pants fit, at peril of your lives. 

Hostler. The pants ? 

Mocero. Of velvet, ornaments of gold. 

Hostler. Mad as a man. 

Groom. Oh ! would I were a mule ! 


ROMANCIE. 


148 

I kick against the man who says I kick, 

And kick against the little chronic kicker; 

But if I kick, I kick against the kicker 
Who kicks against my kicking when I kick; 

And when a chronic kicker goes to kicking, 

I then become a kicker with the kickers 
Against the kicker’s kicking; and I kick 
The kicker, who, by kicking, sets the kickers 
To kicking ’gainst the kicker for his kicking; 

And when I am a kicker with the kickers, 

Against the kicker’s kicking, then I kick 
The kicker, with my kickers, where no kicker, 

By kicking, sets the kickers of the kicker •• 

To kicking ’gainst the kicking kicker’s kicks. 

{He turns a somersault , and lands in Mocero' 1 s stomach.) 
Steward. Good boy ! 

Wardens. Hurrah ! 

Butlers. Hurrah ! 

Hostlers. Hurrah ! 

Groomsmen. Hurrah ! 

All. T’ ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Hurrah ! T’ ha ! ha ! ha ! 

( They stand in the hallioays.) 

Mocero. Bring in the gardeners and out-door men. 

(. After a time they file in.) 

Let it be massive in its architecture. 

Gardener. I ’m at a loss to know your meaning well. 
Mocero. Of domes, some seven; battlements all ’round. 
Gardener. What, sir? 

Mocero. And finish it within a year. . 

Gardener. Explain, for God’s sake. 

Mocero. How about yourself ? 

Entablatures and works of statuary; 

A colonnade extending all around. 

Gardener. He surely cannot be describing Hell, 

For he is only on the way thereto. 

Mocero. At once, knaves. [ They stand in the hallways. 


RO MANCIE. 


T 49 


Gardener. Your will, dog. 

Mocero. You are discharged. 

Bring in the chambermaids and all the females. 

(After a time they file in.) 

Put me to bed. 

Maid. Why ! put yourself to bed. 

Mocero. Strip me stark naked, rub me down right well. 
Maid. Oh, villain ! 

Mocero. Warm my slumber robe at once. 

Maid. Abaddon is warmed for you; why delay. 

Mocero. Draw cuts to see who sleeps to-night with me. 
Maid. Will no man present punish his insults ? 

Mocero. Come, lady, sit upon my knee astraddle. 

Maid. What wretched plague dooms Golda to dishonor ? 
Mocero. The waiting-maids of Golda in the future 
Shall serve its lord stark naked: so disrobe. 

As many as will peel their garments off 
And serve around me clothed in modesty 
And chastity, but in no other dress 
Except this pretty costume of Dame Nature, 

May keep their places, but the rest may go. 

Bring in the worthy smith, and hasten, too. 

Terrol. He ’s here. 

Mocero. Shoe ! Shoe ! 

Terrol. Shoo I Shoo ! 

Mocero. Sole ! Sole ! 

Terrol. Why talk of that you never had; 

Or if you had, is mortgaged into Hell ? 

Mocero. Who are you, sir ? 

Terrol. What you are not — a man. 

Mocero. No insolence ! No insolence, I warn you. 

Terrol. Why, no, no insolence — a mere salute. 

(He knocks Mocero down.) 

Retainers. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! T’ ha, ha, ha ! 
( Mocero gets up, takes time, and assaults the smith. Ter- 
rol, the smith , knocks him down, and with a hoarse snarl , 


ROMANCIE. 


I 5° 

like that of a beast, seizes him and heaves him into the air to 
brain him against the floor.) 

Ivano. No, Terrol, no I Spare him, because I pray. 
Terrol. I ’m almost perjured if I fail to take 
A bloody vengeance on the hellish villain. 

(Officers come behind and seize Mocero from Terrol. Ro- 
mancie and Noma enter. Retainers break into uncontrol- 
lable transports. Magera and Refola enter. Dainty and 
Pete enter. Mother Oardy enters.) 

Refola. Peace follows pain as sunshine after rain. 

Love steadfast lives through troubles dark as gloom, 

Aud a just God rights deep and horrible wrongs. 

Oh, love Magera ! happiness has come. 

Our Dukedom is our own, to share with these 
Our friends, deliverers and benefactors. 

Man’s destiny is the providence of God. 


FIFTH SCENE. 

A chamber in Oolda palace. A scene of full luxury. Rich, 
deep, yielding, but resisting carpets, tapestries, frescoes, 
rugs, divans, books, bric-a-brac, statuary, musical instru- 
ments, pictures in mellow, soft old colors on the walls, gol- 
den chandeliers. Dainty and Pete enter. 

Dainty. Let ’s go through every doggoned nook and cor- 
That we can find. T’ ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. [ ner 

But do n’t the servants stare in wonderment 
When we come bolting unexpectedly ? 

Say, Pete, this is a dandy room; now, ain’t it ? 

Pete. Immaculate, exquisite, and — 

Dainty. Contaminate. 

' Pete. Ha, ha. You ’ll get laughed at for ignorance. 
Contaminate is most inapposite 
In the connection that you used it in. 

Contaminate is — 


ROMANCIE . 


I 


Dainty. Restitutionary; 

But most perfectionately prejudicial 
In matter of robustitude and so forth. 

But inclinationed to prevarication, 

And smelling of desuetude and — rats ! 

Pete. There is no relevancy in your words ; 

You utter them as merely vocal sounds, 

And make them not the sounds of sentiments, 

Thoughts, or ideas. She who catches up 
A word before she has a thought to want one, 

Or an idea to express by it, 

Is nothing but a fustian canting babbler. 

Dainty. Why say no less, and say no less will I. 

Pete. The ordinary circumstances call 
For ordinary words ; emergencies 
Arise sometimes that call peculiar words 
Into the throat; as when a hand is burnt 
The vocal organs pucker into damn. 

But make me a funambulist before 
I grow to be a rattle-pated blowgun. 

An optimist is better than a pessimist, 

How e’er preposterous the notion is 
That devastating holocausts do reach — 

Dainty. The decimation of heterodox, 

However fratricidal and stupendous, 

Therefore, wherefore and nevertheless. 

For it has been established deviously 
That incidences paramount to fleas 
And elephants are never graceful dancers. 

The lofty elevatedness of these 
Do overtop the pure imaginary 
Of twenty times the cute ulterior — 

Pete Cork ! cork I 
Dainty. Well said. 

Pete. You are not talking sense. 

Dainty. Some men are wise and some are arrant fools, 


* 5 * 


RO MANCIE. 


And he more oft is wise who thinks he is not, 

And he who thinks he is wise oft’s a fool. 

We both attempt to use uncommon words ; 

The only difference is that one of us 

Thinks there is sense and meaning in his words, 

The other knows there’s neither found in hers. 

One is a fool, the other may be so ; 

The one is proven foolish by his words, 

The other proven neither wise nor foolish 
By her words. I won’t say which is the fool. 

Pete. Kill him ! shoot him ! stab him ! hang him ! Hooray! 
Oh, shoot him ! kill him ! stick him ! hang him ! Whoopla ! 
{He raves around the room, kicking and striking.) 
Dainty. What is it ; oh, what is it, Pete ? 

Pete. A mouse ! 

{Dainty jumps upon a chair and screams.) 

Get down, get down ; your dress is short enough 
Without your pulling it up higher round you. 

Dainty. Oh, it ’s a sell, you rogue. I ’m onto you. 

Pete. You ’re on a chair, it seems to me. 

Dainty. Now, Pete, 

Do n’t try to be cute ; you ’re a match for me. 

Pete. And will you strike me ? 

Dainty. If you tease me, yes. 

Pete. Where? 

Dainty. Well, what does it matter where I strike you ? 
Pete. You say that I ’m your match, and you will strike me 
And I just thought you couldn’t strike me where 
I strike my matches. 

Dainty. But some lady might. 

Pete. How say you so ? 

Dainty. Suppose you are a kid 

(And you are that and nothing else but that), 

And get to be a match then for your mother, 

She would strike you ; and I ’ll wager a paper 


ROMANCIE. 


J 53 


Of pins she struck you where you strike your matches. 

Pete. Suppose I get to be more than a match 
For you; what then ? 

Dainty. Oh ! But you never will. 

Pete. Suppose I should ? 

Dainty. It is impossible. 

Pete. I think not so. Suppose we make a match. 
Dainty. Yes, but we won’t. 

Pete. Suppose we make a match; 

I match you, then, don’t I ? 

Dainty. No more than I match you. 

Pete. Yes, but I match you. 

Dainty. Say, then, that you match me. 

Pete. Well, then I match you, and I am a match 
For you, and then you strike me, and I snap 
The match in two. 

Dainty. I don’t care if you do. 

Pete. But then we make another match — 

Dainty. 1 doubt it. 

Pete. That is, match over. Now I matched you first, 
And when we break and match over, I match 
You, Daint, again, and in matching you over, 

I overmatch you. 

Dainty. So, so. 

Pete. But why sew ? 

I mean to get a wife to sew for me. 

Dainty. Yes, and she’ll sew the seed of Satan for you, 
And you will reap a harvest of — Hello! 

Your mouth is open. 

Pete. Shut up ! 

Dainty. That to me ? 

Pete. To my mouth, so to you. 

Dainty. I ’m not your mouth. 

Pete. You ’re very like it, though. 

Dainty. How does that work ? 

Pete. This way: Yum ! yum ! 


x 54 


ROMANCIE. 


Dainty. You are a silly fool. 

But, sir, you did not prove that I ’in your mouth. 

Pete. And, ma’am, you did not prove that I ’m a fool. 
Dainty. I point to you as the best proof of it. 

Pete. First, then, my mouth spits. Truly, so do you. 
Dainty. But your mouth don’t spit brimstone and blue 
As of perdition. [blazes, 

Pete. Do you ? 

Dainty . When I ’m mad. 

Pete. My mouth loves kisses, so do you. Catch on? 
Dainty. My own I love. Therefore, were I your mouth, 
I would love your mouth’s kisses; but I hate 
Your kisses worse than I hate your stale wit. 

Pete. Yes, like makes like. Ergo , my wit is dull 
Because I try to sharpen it on you. 

My mouth talks, so do you. You are my mouth. 

Dainty. On that same principle, you are an ass. 

For an ass always brays, and so do you. 

On that same principle, you are a fool. 

A fool talks naught but folly, so do you. 

Pete. What does a fool most love ? 

Dainty. Folly, you fool. 

Pete. Then if I am a fool, you ’re surely folly. 

For I most love you; and I’d rather be 
The fool than the fool’s folly any time. 

I love you, Dainty, one more and one more. 

Dainty. Ah, no, Pete; let’s leave sentimental foolishness 
Alone to people who are old enough 
To have no more sense. Let’s not think of kisses 
And all such sickening foolishness as that. 

At present let’s be kids, and let’s be jolly; 

Let us be merry-hearted as the day. 

When we have laughed, had fun, cracked jokes, and sung, 
And thoroughly enjoyed some forty-five 
Or fifty years of blessed single life, 

Then if we think of nothing else to do 


ROMANCIE. 


J 55 


More foolish and calamitous, get married. 

Pete . Us, Dainty; you aud I ? Do you mean us? 

Dainty. Yes, but not to each other, pretty Pete. 

Pete. Do you think, now that you are rich and fine, 

That we can live on as we always did? 

Dainty. Do I look or feel finer than I did ? 

Pete. You act and taste just like you always did. 

Dainty. And am just what I was. This pinching dress ! 
I want to lift my foot like that, and — kick ! 

Pete. Well, next time, don’t you kick at my new hat; 

See, it is nearly spoiled. 

Dainty. It is quite spoiled. (Sits down in it.) 

T’ ha, ha, ha ! I’m just the same old Dainty. 

Besides, Pete, you are richer than I am. 

Magera and Refola are much richer 

Than Ivano and Terrol. They ’re your parents. 

Pete. Who ? Ivano and Terrol ? 

Dainty. No, the others. 

But Ivano and Terrol may be some day. 

You see, all Undezerne will be yours some day. 

Pete. Oh, no; Bomancie is their child, not I. 

Dainty. Say, let me whisper to you; you’re wrong. 

For Norna loves Romancie, and she him. 

Pete. How do you know ? 

Dainty. It said itself to me. 

Just wait and see. But let’s be like we were; 

You do your part, and I ’ll bet 1 ’ll do mine. 

Pete. Well, stand flat-footed, then, and do your part. 
Dainty. This is a bad beginning, but here goes. 

Pete. But come, now, and we will explore some more. 
Dainty. What are you trying to do ? 

Pete. Which is your safe side ? 

Dainty. My safe side, fool ? 

Pete. Why, yes; you know the maxim: 

“Keep on the safe side.” I want to discover, 

So I can walk on your safe side. There are 


RO MANCIE. 


156 

So many sides, ’t is hard to choose sometimes 
Which is the right side: there is a front side. 

Back side, left side, right side, up side, under side, 

An aside, beside, sea side and a decide. 

Dainty. Yes; and the right side for you is the left side. 
Oh ! if you knew how longingly I had sighed 
For you to take yourself aside, or go 
Down beside the sea side, and there decide 
To never come again, you would not be 
Here eating up my lifetime as you are. 

Pete. Whoop-la ! I know my side. When I ’m by you 
I am so happy, I ’m beside myself. 

{Arm in arm , hand clasped they run outside. Mother 
Oardy enters.) 

M. Oardy. The blessed children ! where can they be rac- 
By dint of perseverance I will, catch them, [ing? 

Though the long chase leads me through half the day. 

This Is a strange place, and I do not like it. 

I want to be in dear old Undezerne, 

The fondly-loved old home, where I can be 
The mother to nine-tenths the neighborhood. 

{She goes on. A warden and a maid enter.') 

Maid. We met, we loved, we parted; [singing. 

But we vowed to meet again; 

And when we met in wedlock, 

Both our hearts we would enchain. 

The day we set for wedding, 

It passed by — I did not go. 

The blows of fate and fortune 
Is there any man can know ? 

I saw again my darling, 

After many months had passed; 

I kissed her and caressed her, 

And her sweet form closely clasped. 


ROMANCIE. 


*57 


I begged again her ’trothal, 

But she sadly turned her head; 

Her old love was still living, 

But her faith and trust were dead. 

“ Must it be so forever ? ” 

Then I asked, “ May hope no more 

Wing over gulfs that sever 

Our lost lives this side death’s shore ? ” 

She plucked a rose and gave me, 

And she said, “ When this you see, 

Remember that I told you 
I ’d call you, my love, to me 

If ever I relented 
And could trust my future life 

To you, love, and consented 
That I could become your wife.” 

I took it, clasped her, kissed her, 

And from her did go with pain; 

But I ’ll kiss the rose she gave me, 

Till I know that hope is vain. 

{They go. Ivano and Terrol enter.') 

Ivano. ’T is very kind in them to offer us 
Such affluence, but only for our child 
Will we accept a portion of it all. 

A home of luxury like this is sweet, 

But our low, modest cottage, with its furniture 
Not rich, but simply comfortably sweet, 

Was rich enough. We will go back to it. 

We will rebuild it, and take up that life 
That was destroyed that night so long ago. 

It takes all classes to make up a world. 


ROMANCIE. 


158 

Let kings sit in their thrones and rule their empires; 

I ’ll sit thus, love, and rule a cottage home. 

I only lack one thing now to be happier 
Than any mortal: I would hear you tell 
Me you are just as happy as I am. 

Terrol. Be, then, the happiest mortal of the sphere, 

If it is possible for you to be thus happy, 

Which much I doubt amidst my present joy. 

Iavno. A happy home, a husband and a child ! 

Youth was all joy, and that time shall not come 
That shall wrench from me that deep-heaving groan, 

“A day of youth is worth a year of age.” 

( They go. Mag era and Befola enter.) 

Magera. Oh, wife, how happy does it make me feel, 

To know that while we languished years in prison 
Our child was mistress of a home like this, 

And shared a father’s and a brother’s love. 

Befola. Life is all pleasure, if its woes and pains 
Are looked at as the master artist’s eye 
Beholds the shade that makes the picture perfect. 

Our child shall still be mistress of this home. 

The brother’s kisses she through all these years 
Has felt upon her lips, are grown to warmth 
Infused into them by a holier love. 

And I am glad, too; wedded is not lost; 

And parents do not well if they obstruct 

Their child’s first love to choose a wedding yoimg — 

If love has set upon an object worthy. 

Love at first sight the sweetest love I call, 

But young first love is truest love of all. 

( They go: Bomancie and Noma enter.) 

Noma. Please sit by me, Romancie, on the divan 
Until I tell you how my home seems now. 

( Bomancie replaces some roses , and goes around the room . 
At length she sits on the opposite side , on a sofa.) 


RO MANCIE. 


1 59 


Noma ( gets up, looks around the room). 

I can remember, years and years ago, 

When we were little tots, full many a night 
We romped together round this dear old room 
Till bedtime, then together climbed the stairs — 
Romancie. Do you remember when we quarreled once, 
And I so soundly boxed you, and your hair pulled? 

Noma. And I remember that you often kissed me, 
And I endured as patiently as wraith 
Would wait, to form a union — 

Romancie. Oh, you ’re patient. 

Noma. I loved you with a child’s untried devotion — 
And who loves not pure, perfect innocence ? 

But rivers flow with grander, mightier motion, 

As on they roll to join the brimming ocean, 

Than do the babbling, crystal brooklets whence 
The rivers form and rivers’ lives commence. 
Romancie. We chose, as children ever choose, to sound 
Upon the harp of life the treble strings; 

We never tuned the grave or sad profound, 

Lest they should break when tuned the ceaseless round 
Of happiness. But Time on tireless wings 
Speeds on. We ’ll turn our minds to other things. 
Noma. The plan of nature is exceeding grand: 

Her lovely vernal costume of rich green; 

Her lakes, their crystal fountains silver sheen; 

Her shadowy, music-haunted forest land; 

Her dark-blue ocean rippling o’er its strand 
Are very fair, but Nature has a queen. 

Romancie. I would I knew her. 

Noma. The many orbs of this creation vast 
That sweep in circles round a distant pole, 

Are one great tablet that shall ever last, 

And bear God’s title in a graven cast. 

But in the mind of woman and her soul 
God blazes like the sun above the shoal 


i6o 


RO MANCIE. 


Of rubies, pearls and diamonds and gold, 

The harbingers and creatures of the morn, 

In regal splendor from the east up rolled, 

What time the sun his pompous court does hold 
Deep in the portal of the day new born, 

And showers glory from his plenteous horn. 

Romancie. Thank you. 

Norna. When night her scepter stretches o’er the earth 
And wraps creation in her sable shroud, 

Then drives away the jollities and mirth 
That brooked, by day, of cheerfulness no dearth, 

And in their room exults a ghostly crowd, 

Pale silence and grim solitude low browed, 

And stillness, torpor, quiet, sleep and rest, 

To govern in the gloom of night’s dark noon. 

Hushed Nature, then, in waiting for the best 
The morrow holds, is like sweet woman pressed 
Beneath the gloom of woe, but hoping soon 
The blest approach of daylight’s happy boon. 
Romancie. If woman may be patient under grief, 

And keep the taper hope lit in the gloom 
Of pestilence and woe poured on humanity 
So that men see her as a cheering star 
Of hope that looks amidst the walling mist 
That gathers sometimes on the sea of life, 

To guide them when the compass faith is gone, 

I’m glad that I’m a woman. 

Noma. The moon, in majesty and queenly pride, 

Slow sailing through the azure vault star-pearled, 
Cannot so far above this footstool ride 
As woman moves above the seething tide 
Of evil in a ruining deluge hurled 
By passions base and folly o’er the world. 

Romancie. Why, take from woman virtue and sweet purity, 
And you have taken away her very being. 

Why praise her for what is all given to her, 


ROMANCIE. 


161 


Her breath, her life, her essence, even herself, 

That which is hers because God gave it to her ? 

Norna. Why praise her? Had a man asked me the query, 
I would have struck him tor a ruffian. 

Praise her for her God-given purity, 

Her truth, her virtue and her chastity, 

Because she guards it ’gainst Hell’s wiles on earth. 
Romancie. Thank you again. 

Norna. And neither can the moon from her high place, 
Serenely floating in a cloudless sky 
Or gilding fleecy clouds with matchless grace, 

Such lovely halos shed, or wreathe her face 
In sweeter smiles than those sweet smiles that I 
On sister’s lovely and loved face descry. 

Romancie. That compliment deserves a kiss for pay, 

As well as that old, sweet name you just called me. 

No, come around behind the sofa here, 

And just stoop over me and take it lightly. 

Norna. When from the clouds I see the bolts descend. 
And lurid glares across the heavens paint, 

The lordly mountain pines and cedars rend, 

Fierce quaking to earth’s deep foundations send 
By the terrific crash and echoes faint, 

As though fierce demons struggled at restraint; 

When I behold this monstrous universe 
In space suspended by a golden chain, 

Forbidding grouped systems to disperse, 

And causing all created spheres diverse 
In their appointed orbits to remain, 

The harmony of Heaven to maintain; 

When I behold the grass and forest kings, 

The lilies of the valleys and the blooms, 

Expanding in the air their dewy wings, 

—11 


162 


ROMANCIE. 


Combining good and use with lovelier things 
Than grace the homes of kings or deck their tombs, 
Or beautify grand halls or stately rooms; 

And when I gaze upon the mountains hoar, 

And know that they were centuries ago 
With mighty labor and with thunder’s roar 
Uplifted from the earth’s deep fiery core, 

And raised to "where their towering spires the snow 
Still crowns when summer burns the plains below; 

And when upon the ocean’s coast I stand, 

And see its currents, tides, and waves, and swells, 
And hear the roaring of its billows grand 
With thunders booming, driven on the strand, 

A potent whisper to my spirit tells 
That nature’s God in lovely nature dwells. 

I look above and murmur, “ Oh, my Lord ! 

What monuments of glory you have raised 
To aid your word in teaching sin abhorred, 

And love’s obedience blessed with rich reward. 

Before your works stupendous, Father praised, 

My mind is lost, my senses are amazed.” 

But with what deep sublimity I feel 
The glory of all these, sublimer still 
Appear the powers of mind, and far more real ; 

And higher, nobler, high beyond appeal 
Appear the grandeurs of the human will, 

Sweet woman’s spotless soul sublimer still. 

For woman, noble, lovely, pure and grand, 

Her soul and mind, their tomb of lovely clay, 

Is the divinest work of that high hand 
Which toys the thunderbolt, his flaming brand 
That causes night to dazzle into day, 

As children whirl the firebrands in their play. 


ROMANCIE. 


163 


Komancie’s form is perfect in its grace, 

In symmetry divine, and lovely mould ; 

Her waist invites an angel’s fond embrace. 

As hard to tell the beauties of her face 
As to describe the scene when waves are rolled 
By balmy winds upon a coast of gold. 

Romancie. How know you, when you have not seen the 
scene ? 

Noma. Her face such striking beauty holds in store 
As rests in some grand landscape on a coast 
Where priceless jewels glitter on the shore, 

Gray cliffs ascend, with ivy covered o’er, 

Huge castles nestle ’mong a sylvan host, 

And smoke curls slowly like a fleeting ghost. 

Romancie. A doubtful complimeut, it seems to me. 
Noma. Your ears are two quaint shells upon a beach, 
Your hair, like waves that joy round them to play, 

Or flowery sea-weed which their tendrils reach 
To clasp their pearly edges, but to teach 
Them never ocean sounds, for all the day 
They list to virtue, truth, and love’s soft lay. 

Romancie. Your ears are like, are like, like — to be boxed. 
Noma. As o’er your neck and shoulders falls your hair, 
Like rays of sunlight from the zenith bent, 

And locks and curls and tresses fan the air, 

The sight, I deem, would prove more wondrous fair 
Than showers from the arched rainbow sent 
Of molten gold and brilliant diamonds blent. 

Romancie. Well, if you do deem, I do n’t. [pure* 

Noma. As two fair mountain lakes, sweet, clear and 
Through liquid avenues dim, faint, unreal, 

Explore the depths of crystal worlds obscure, 

So your blue eyes, but more transparent sure. 

Unsounded depths of trusting love reveal, 

And soul of honor, truth’s authentic seal. 


164 


ROMANCIE. 


Romancie. It ’s all in my eye. 

Noma. And as two lakes from mirror faces bright, 
Reflect those lights that in high Heaven shine, 

The sun by day, the moon and stars by night, 

And clouds, translucent liveries of light, 

In color crimson, purple, gold, and wine, 

Adorning all the dome with art divine; 

So your blue eyes reflect such lofty aims, 

And noble thoughts, and aspirations pure 
As half our marks of honor, half are fames. 

For who are they who win immortal names 
But such as those whom nothing can allure 
From truth and honor while their lives endure ? 
Romancie. I won’t listen. 

Noma. No lilies ever bloomed in days of spring, 

Or roses, blushing at the dew’s caress, 

Or kissed the zephyrs and the fairy king, 

The silver sunbeam, flitting on the wing, 

Which could compare with your sweet cheeks, much less 
Your lips so sweet, so full of loveliness. 

Romancie. I did n’t hear you. 

Noma. How knew you I had ceased ? 

Romancie. I saw the motion end. 

Noma. Oh, Grace ! Romancie was your chosen child, 
On whom you lavished all your choicest charms. 

So fair you made her that the angels styled 
Her loveliest mortal, and the graces smiled, 

And kissed her lips, and caught her in their arms, 

And called her sister, and adored her charms. 
Romancie. You were not one of them. 

Noma. I was a brother, though. 

Romancie. Ah 1 
Noma. I listened — 

Romancie. But I won’t. 

Noma ( sits by her , holds her hands). Please do. 


ROMA NCI E. 


i6 5 

I listened to your silvery voice, and heard 
The liquid murmurs of a rippling stream, 

Or seemed to hear a forest’s foliage stirred 
By gentle breezes in a single word. 

The mellow music of your voice did seem 
To charm my senses like a blissful dream. 

Romancie. It won’t if you hold my hands till I scream. 
j Yorna. You laughed, and echoes started from their places, 
And strove to keep afloat the magic sound. 

A troop of fairies came, with laughing faces, 

And tripped a measure with the cunning graces; 

The sprites of mirth upstarted with a bound, 

And chased the fairy graces round and round. 
Romancie. I never saw them. 

Noma. And when your gentle voice I heard in singing, 
Your rich, melodious, harp-like tones so clear, 

Were soothing as the winds of May-time, bringing 
The fragrant odors of pond lilies clinging 
In close embraces to a sedgy mere, 

So softly sweet your voice is to my ear. 

Romancie. I ’m glad I sang to you, then, in those days. 
Noma. If in your lighter moods you sang a gay 
And lively song, in gliding tones of mirth, 

A company of cherubs seemed to stray 
From Paradise, to chorus round my way. 

My fancy marveled that the lowly earth 
To harmony so charming could give birth. 

Romancie. How liked you “ Old Nick Is After You ?” 
Noma. A witching grace is in your dainty feet — 

Wait, I will change the start then. 

A witching grace is in your form so sweet, 

Your slippered feet so delicately small, 

To stirring strains of love your heart does beat 
True love, of sweetest passion name as sweet. 

Your heart is warm with sympathy for all 
Who steadfast stand, or erring, straightway fall. 


1 66 


RO MANCIE. 


Romancie. Of mixed things, that ’s the worst. 

Noma. I knew you when you were a pretty girl, — 
Romancie. That means, I guess, that I am ugly now. 
Noma. And I a happy, careless, awkward boy. 
Romancie. How now ? 

Noma. Full oft we ’ve strolled to watch the breezes curl 
The sportive waves, and see the eddies whirl; 

And never came a trouble to annoy 
Our ceaseless round of happiness and joy. 

Romancie. Mind when I stuck wax in your hair ? 

Noma. We walked together to the school-house door 
Of summer mornings, when the air was cool; 

We searched for shells along the sounding shore, 

And stood to hear sublime old Ocean roar. 

We both disliked our patient master’s rule, 

And conned the self-same lessons o’er at school. 

Romancie. Far better loved we then to romp and play 
Among the flowers on the grassy plains, 

Or through the grand old forest’s courts to stray 
And hear the zephyrs and the foliage play 
In soothing harmony, sweet, solemn strains 
Of Nature’s grandest musical refrains. 

Noma. As first the bud appears and slowly grows, 

And in its secret cell toils hour by hour 
Until at last the perfect flower blows, 

So you, Romancie, budding as the rose, 

Grow in the grace of virtue’s godly power 
By Heaven bestowed as Heaven’s richest dower. 

And I — that saw the pretty child transformed 
Into a lovely girl so full of grace, 

So sweet, so gay, whose every action charmed — 

Now see the girl become a woman, warmed 
By woman’s passions; see her take her place 
Among the noble of the human race. 


ROMANCIE. 


167 


And as some landscape in mild summer’s prime 
Is to that landscape in rough winter’s arms, 

Or some heroic song in rapturous rhyme 
Is to a work of prose, or as the chime 
Of merry marriage bells to the alarms 
Of clanging fire bells, so seem the charms 

Of you to child and girl, Romancie sweet. 

For though you keep the grace of childhood’s days 
And loveliness of girlhood, incomplete 
They both had seemed had ne’er upon them beat 
With fusing splendor the ethereal rays 
Of lovelight from your woman’s soul ablaze. 

And so the love wherewith I loved you when 
You were a child burns fiercer as the days 
Of boyhood pass, no more to come again. 

And now I stand a man ’mong fellow-men, 

I love you with the holy love that lays 
A life upon the altar it does raise. 

[He draws her in his arms and kisses her passionately. 

She leans upon him , resting, nestling so.) 

You have become my constant inspiration 
To purer life and charitable deeds. 

As some great city on an elevation, 

Swift perishing in some dread conflagration, 

Flames down the ocean, and the seaman leads 
Safe through the howling storm which him impedes, 

So did the object of my early love 

Stand on the hill of virtue, towering high, 

And in her lily hand her head above 
Hold up the lamp of truth which steady drove 
Its broad effulgent beams into the sky, 

An d sunshine lit the sea of life, where I, 


ROMANCIE. 


1 68 

A struggling mariner, beheld its glow, 

And toward its beacon point my course did steer, 
Secure from storms above and waves below. 

Oh, in this world of darkness, wrong and woe, 

To love and be beloved of woman dear 
Makes life’s wild wastes as fruitful fields appear. 

The man who loves a woman good and true 
Will live a man ennobled, true and just. 

For man must think and speak and live and do 
And grow more like the things he loves. As dew 
To herbage, scorched by desert winds and dust. 

So is to man a woman’s love and trust. 

I loved an ideal, and my soul did glow 
With my resolve to shape my life and mould 
My character in such fair form that foe 
And friend alike would say: “His life-works show 
Him worthy of her love.” Ambition rolled 
The dense clouds then away, and showed the bold 

And rugged lofty mountain-peak of fame, 

So called by some, by more called duty’s peak. 

“Ascend, young man !” exclaimed the gentle dame, 
Ambition. “Mount yon lofty crag and claim 
A place ’mong those who, toiling upward, seek 
Good reputations for themselves to make.” 

And duty’s own sweet self called down to me: 

“To follow where I lead, you must ascend 
This bouldered precipice which seems to be 
Sad undertaking, fraught with misery. 

But when your summoned energies you bend 
To the attempt, unthought-of things will lend 

Their aid and charms to lure and lead you on. 

Magnific scenes will burst upon your view, 

As broader grows your prospect. Pictures drawn 
By nature fairer than the blushing dawn 


ROMANCIE. 


169 


Will be unveiled around you, and with true 
And perfect joy will thrill your spirit through.” 

And you, Romancie, seemed close by my side, 

To rouse my dormant energies and cheer 
My drooping spirits when I paused. Loved guide ! 
Fair, trusted leader through the waste and wide 
Untraversed wilderness of time I To hear 
Your voice was then to lose all doubt and fear. 

“Adieu to happiness, to joy and bliss, 

Adieu to fame, to glory and renown. 

Hail ! grief and wretchedness ; hail ! dark abyss 
Of crime and woe ! ” cries he who fails in this : 

To trample base and selfish passions down, 

To hate vile hate, to scorn foul envy’s frown, 

To nobly love the noble things he meets 
In his wild rovings on the rolling sea 
Of time ; for love, if base or low, defeats 
The upward promptings of the soul, and beats 
The moral scruples down. He cannot be 
A man who does not love nobility. 

If obstacles arose and barred my way 
To any object of my mind’s desire, 

I seemed to hear my loved Romancie say, 

“Press on with courage bold, nor stop nor stay 
For fierce resistance or for dangers dire, 

Nor let your spirits droop or hopes expire;” 

And from the music of your gentle tones 
Away would flee unnerving doubt and fear ; 

And toil would place successive stepping-stones 
Along my way, and will, with generous loans 
Of energy, would succor me and cheer ; 

Soon would the wished and hoped-for goal appear. 

Romancie. What means this retrospect ? 


ROMANCIE. 


170 

Noma. I ’ve always loved you. 

Do you remember when you knew ere I did 
My sister you were not, you often kissed me? 

Romancie. I never did. 

Noma. Komancie, yes, you did ; 

You threw your arms around me, and thus kissed me. 

Romancie. I never did, I never, sir, I never ; 

I know I never did, because — I know it ; 

I never kissed you. Even if I did 
I told you never, never, to remember it. 

Noma. But then I never could forget about it. 

Romancie. No? 

Noma. And then, one night, I found you in the arbor 
Out yonder on the lawn, and this sweet form — 

Romancie. It was n’t. 

Noma. Was n’t what ? 

Romancie. Just simply was n’t. 

Noma. I begged you go where you were dressed for going, 
And told you you had nothing on — 

Romancie. I had. 

Noma. Except your night-dress, but you told me you 
Had more on; that your stockings and your buskins — 
Romancie. Yes, and I had my — 

Noma. Yes, you had your way; 

For 1 sat down, and you sat on my knee. 

Romancie. Well, I do n’t care — 

Noma. Why, neither do I care. 

Romancie. I did n’t mean that. 

Noma. And then you told me to call you by name 
That you above all others wished to hear. 

1 did n’t know it then, but I do now — 

My darling ! my sweet bride ! my little wife ! 

Do you still love me ? I have always loved you ! 

Say that you ’ll love me, say you ’ll be my wife; 

Say everything in one bliss-bringing kiss. 

I ’ll take one more, then. My own, little bride! 


ROMANCIE. 


171 

Romancie. But never, never, never do forget it. 

Norna. Forget my bride ? Forget my little wife ? 

I can’t forget I ’m living, and that she is my wife. 

My wife, you ’ll still be mistress of old Golda. 

Romancie. I would haye been its mistress anyway. 
Norna. What, sweet? 

Romancie. Wait here, and I will bring my meaning. 
Norna. Now what ’s afoot ? Well, I will wait and see. 

( Romancie comes tripping in with the will. Striking a 
proud , affected , imperious attitude, she hands it to him.) 
Norna. And you are now the mistress of old Golda ? 
Romancie. Yes, my lord. 

Norna. This old ancestral mansion is your own ? 
Romancie. Yes, my lord. 

Norna. And I ’m a pauper ? [have half of it. 

Romancie ( comes to him ; softly). No, Norna; read on; you 
Do n’t talk that way; your voice is like cold steel. 

Norna. Yours is the old home. 

Romancie. Mine and my husband’s. 

I am so happy to bring you such dowry. 

Norna. I wed you, and you take me to your home. 
Romancie. Yes. You take me into your arms. Look softer. 
Norna. I wed a home and wealth. 

Romancie. And wife that loves you. 

Norna. I will not do it ! 

Romancie. That seals my tongue. 

I canuot beg you, Norna, to come wed me; 

I love you, and I offer me to you — 

You do refuse to take me. 

Norna. I love you, darling. 

Romancie. Why, so I thought; then kiss me and be sweet. 
Norna. It is not you that I refuse to wed. 

Romancie. I knew you would n’t when I said I loved you. 
( She reaches around his neck and pulls him down to kiss 
him.) 

Norna. I will not wed you thus. I thought myself 


172 


ROMANCIE . 


Heir to all this, and you of Undezerne, 

But I can never wed what thus I wed. 

I love you. I ’ll go out into the world 
And make my half of dear old Golda grow 
Into a gift and home for my sweet wife, 

Then come for her. 

Romancie. Well, we ’ll go down on your half 
And build a little cottage by the sea; 

And I ’ll cook for you and keep home for you, 

While you go out to work amidst the fields, 

And lull at night you to sleep in my arms. 

And we will thus live till you make this fortune, 

And your half grows to be a home for us. 

By this means I can be your wife at once, 

And not be forced to wait for happiness 

Until your half can grow, but grow at once your half 

Your better half. See, love ? 

Noma. No; it can’t be. 

Romancie. Let it all end, then; I will not be yours 
I offered you my love; you took it gladly, 

Or seemed to. Then I offered you myself, 

Because you asked me for myself, and also 
Because I wanted you to have myself. 

You took me, too, or said, at least, you would. 

I said I ’d be your sweetheart; you took me. 

I said I ’d be your bride; you took me, too. 

I said I ’d be your wife; you took me, also. 

And everything you asked for I did give you, 

And everything you yet would have asked of me 
I would have given you without reserve. 

Now I am proud, and value myself highly. 

This casket — myself — I have given to you, 

And also all the jewels you ’ll find in it, 

And also all the adornments found outside. 

You took them freely as a gift from me; 

Or, rather, paid me for them with your love. 


RO MANCIE. 


173 


I thought you did, but now I find you did n’t. 

You meant to pay me for them with old Gold? . 

Sir, I do give myself for my love’s love, 

But I am not for sale, for all the world; 

This casket, me, its inside and its outside 
I offered you, and you accepted it; 

But when 1 offered you old Golda Palace 
For you to live and keep your casket in, 

You say it is a gift too rich to take. 

So I ’m not worth as much as Golda Palace ! 

Sir, I ’ll not offer me to you again; 

I ’ll never be your wife. Farewell ! Farewell ! 

(He starts to her , with arms outstretched; she reaches forth 
her hands , eager to he taken ; he turns and moves resolutely 
toward the door.) 

Stay, Norn a, stay, and I will be your wife. 

Noma. Love me while I am gone; I ’ll come again. 

(She runs into his arms , weeping.) 

Romancie. Will you go from the girl who so well loves 
you? 

For wealth, you say, when we have wealth at home. 

I do not ask for gold — give me your love; 

I love you — you have said that you love me; 

Then knowing this I ’ll speak, if it be wrong, 

And say that now I want to be your wife, 

I want to be the mistress of old Golda 
And be the mistress of your loving heart. 

Do n’t let false notions of your independence 
Stand in between us, but kiss me and press me 
So close that nothing, love, may intervene. 

Noma. The man who offers himself less a home 
Should have his hopes crushed to a gateless tomb. 

Love me a year, or five — I ’ll come again. 

Romancie. Go ! go ! Romancie never will be yours I 
Go you into the world, I to the grave. 

Stay I — go 1 I ’ll not be yours — you do not want me. 


*74 


ROMANCIE. 


You go, and this old hall weeps for a master, 

A lord. It shall not smile to have a mistress. 

{She runs , seizes the will, holds it aloft.) 

Here is the sword that carved my heart in twain; 

This gave me Golda, and you alienated. 

Who is the child of Golda ? You, or I ? 

Who does inherit by the kingdom’s laws ? 

{Furiously she rends the will to tatters and dashes them 
into the grate.) 

Whose now are these old tenements of Golda ? 

Your given half has grown into a whole. 

Take you the heritages of that father 

That we both loved. Your fortune is complete. 

Romancie goes a girl into the world. 

A girl too proud to listen to your offers 

If you should come with twenty times old Golda, 

And toss it all a gift down at my feet. 

I scorn your wealth. Me it may never buy. 

Yours is old Golda. I’ll go in the world; 

But not like you; I ’ll never come again. 

Farewell, my loved, lost darling ! 

Noma. Full many gems go trampled under foot, 

Mu -h richer than the regal stones of crowns. 

If God cast off his glorious crown to chaos, 

He had not thrown away what that man throws 
Who scorns the pure, sweet girl who fondly loves him. 

Mine the regret, remorse and deathless pain. 

But I will win her, for her heart still loves me. 

Romancie ! 

{He goes to her , clasps her in his arms , draws her upon his 
shoulder.) 

If I did reject you once, 

And took you not at the sweet offering, 

And made then a mistake unrecti fiable, 

Remember what ’t was done for — love of you, 

And wish to give you wedding gifts of cost. 


RO MANCIE. 


*75 


I love you, but I ’ve made a grievous error. 

Forgive, forget, make not the same mistake. 

Step on your pride and come back to your love, 

And this harsh wound I ’ve given you I will heal 
So ne’er shall it be made to bleed again. 

I love you I Love me ! Be my little wife ! 

Romancie. T’ ha, ha, ha, ha, ha ! Was it well acted ? 
I always play the game for what is in it. 

I played for you, and I have won you fairly. 

Of course I ’ll be your wife. Was it well acted ? 

Could I so feign despair ? Did it seem real ? 

Did you believe that I had lost the game ? 

No trick device me from my aim shall move, 

For any strategy is fair in love. 

I ’ll be your wife; and maybe in the future 
You ’ll let me be an actress on the stage. 

Norna. Yes; be an actress on the stage of life, 

And play the part of my own little wife. 












: 


• 







• 

. 

• 


• - | 9 










l 










* 









• 
























. 
























■ 

i • 













• 


















• 












% 



















► 



WOOING TIME. 


*T was in the merry springtime, 

The early blossoming time 
Of April, in a little country town. 

A private company 
Of amateurs did play 
A play wherein I did the part of clown. 

The girl who was the heroine 
Was lovely as a fairy in 
A dance of nymphs and mermaids of the sea. 

But her well-rouuded form 
Possessed a greater charm 
Than any nymph or fairy’s form to me. 

Her lips seemed made to kiss, 

Her sweet form to caress, 

As in a jaunty, nautical attire, 

Upon the stage she played 
The gay, sea-roving maid, 

And touched all hearts with her dramatic fire. 

Her arms and neck were bare, 

Her soft and silken hair, 

Bound loosely in a riband clasp behind, 

Around her shoulders fell 
In many a wavy swell, 

Like twilight shadows — light and shade combined. 
—12 


178 


WOOING TIME . 


She had a jacket on, 

Embroidered anchors drawn 
Upon its lapels; while around her waist 
Was bound a circlet zone, 

That seemed there just alone 
To make me wish it by my arm replaced. 

And ere the play is done, 

I have, with clownish fun, 

Inspired her with dread of Darkey Scud. 

At last she gets so vexed, 

She chooses this quaint text, 

And preaches from it: “ You vile ball of mud.” 

But still I stick close to her, 

Offensively I woo her, 

And threaten that I ’ll kiss her and her hug. 

“ Well, if you want to die,” 

She says, “ To kiss me try, 

And I ’ll attend to having your grave dug.” 

While on the stage I am 
The sable son of Ham 

That serves her, and you bet I like the station. 
No angel could induce 
Me from her to break loose, 

For angel’s place to trade my occupation. 


I was a bashful booby, 

And luckless mortals who be 
Born bashful know with me to sympathize. 
Of course I could, as clown, 
Embarrassment choke down, 

But I could never do it otherwise. 


WOOING TIME. 


179 


So when the play was over, 

Though I ’d become her lover, 

I was afraid of her as ghosts and snakes. 

I tell you, gentlemen, 

In that dread moment when 
A bashful boy thinks of the girls, he quakes. 

At last I got so reckless 
And desperate and checkless, 

I walked right up to where she lived, and knocked. 
My lungs and liver whitened 
With fear. I was more frightened 
At what I ’d done than forty pistols cocked 

And jammed into my face. 

I longed to fly the place, 

And hit the high points at a hard, dead run. 

I trembled in my shoes, 

And felt proud not to lose 
My life, as well as wits, at what I ’d done. 


I waited twenty years, 

I did, though that appears 
A long time, then resolved that I would skip; 
And would have hit the hard road 
Without delay, but Lord God ! 

The door was opened, and the little rip 

Was standing there before me. 

Chills raced with cold chills o’er me; 

Six million times I wished that I were dead. 
And at the way I blundered 
She and creation wondered; 

And this is something like the speech I said: 


i8o 


WOOING TIME. 


“Good after dinner, lady — 

I came because Pa made me — 

Columbus did discover me, then died. 

I love you — no, no, no — 

I ’ll bet you — won’t you go — 

And tell somebody — with you — and we ’ll ride. 


She, as a maiden should be, 

Was just as cool as could be ; 

But then that did n’t cool me off a bit. 

I knew she laughed at me, 

But at the same time she 
Good-naturedly did help me out of it. 

“Does Scud intend that he, 

The rover of the sea, 

Would like to take this evening out to ride ? 

Of course I ’ll gladly go, 

It will be nice, I know, 

To drive, this evening, through the country-side. 

The darling, darling girl I 
She was the rarest pearl, 

I thought, and still think, ever earth had seen. 
She really had told me 
That she would go with bold me 
To ride. Sweet, gentle girl, just sweet fifteen ! 


When I drove up before 
Her home, she to the door 
Did come, and I stepped out to help her in. 
To touch her lovely arm 
Did dart through me a warm 
Delicious rapture worth a gem to win. 


WOOING TIME. 


She was so self-possessed 
And so correctly guessed 
The proper way to make me feel at ease, 
That I did soon forget 
Embarrassment, and set 
Myself about attempts my girl to please. 

Earth never was as fair, 

And sky and breezy air 
Seemed to melt in a rare, rich loveliness 
They never bore before 
And all creation wore 
Her gayest, sweetest, beautifulest dress. 


I wonder if she knew 
How at each moment grew 
My longing to encircle her dear waist 
And kiss a burning kiss, 

The lover’s seal of bliss, 

Upon her lips, the fruit of bliss to taste. 


The sun seemed to descend 
Unto his journey’s end 
As swiftly as some swiftly-shooting star ; 
And ere I dreamed of going 
To home his orb was glowing 
In splendor on the red horizon’s bar. 


Reluctantly I turned 
Us homeward while I yearned 
To kiss her lips and her lovecl form caress, 

I placed my arm behind 
Her on the seat to find 
Out whether she would my first wishes guess. 


WOOING TIME . 


She still leaned back and seemed 
To care not, and I dreamed 
That she might resist if I did more ; 

I longed, hut feared to try it ; 

But no use to deny it — 

I had grown bolder than I was before. 


I touched her farthest arm, 

Though trembling with alarm, 

And I believe I spoke a compliment 
Upon its fair, round form, 

And praised its beauty’s charm. 

She smiled and shyly ’neath her lashes sent 

A glance that seemed to say, 

“Why such delay, I pray ? 

Of course I will resist, but what ’s the odds ? 
You easily can win, 

So then, why not begin ?” 

Thought I, “It ’s worth the trial of the gods ! ” 


And so, one arm I placed 
Around her darling waist, 

And drew her form so closely to my side 
That one round arm behind me 
Could nothing do but find me, 

Within its clasp if it to struggle tried. 

I held her other hand 
In mine clasped closely, and 
I held her with her face turned up to mine. 
She waited then and wondered; 

I waited then, and pondered 
If one kiss or one hundred pays love’s fine. 


WOOING TIME . 


I8 3 


The army corps that captures 
A city, wild with raptures, 

Makes momentary pause when it is won ; 
But pauses not in pity 
For the beleaguered city, 

But in the pleasure that the siege is done. 


The man that thirsts for fame 
Starts not when first his name 
Comes pealing from her silver bugle’s throat, 
But in his joy he pauses 
And pride of the applauses 
Of what he sung, or did, or said, or wrote. 

The soul that, sins forgiven, 

Knocks at the doors of Heaven, 

When they are opened does not bound within, 
But pauses to behold 
The golden realm of gold 
Anticipating bliss now to begin. 


And as I fondly gazed 
Upon her face upraised 
And lips so temptingly below me held, 

I waited in the bliss 
Of waiting for a kiss — 

When soon the waiting spell will be dispelled. 


Delay was sweet and long, 

As that impulsive song 
Sung by the twilight singers of the South; 
For while I closely pressed 
Her to me, and caressed 
Her little form, I kissed her blooming mouth. 


184 


WOOING TIME . 


I cannot' tell the pleasure 
I felt, when from my treasure 
I stole the sweetest treasure of her trove; 

I never had known bliss 
Before I stole that kiss, 

That sweet first kiss from the sweet girl I love. 

There are joys so divine 
That words used to define 
Their pleasures or their essences are wasted; 
Words cannot shadow forth 
Their priceless, valued worth — 

They must be seen, or heard, or felt, or tasted. 

Each mortal has those blisses his — • 

God pity him that misses his — 

Which are his own, and all alone his own. 

As for me, I have many of 
Them worth more, far, than any of 
The offices and fortunes earth has known. 

But Kansas beaux and sweethearts, 

The raptures that complete hearts’ 

Delight in love’s first kiss, I ’ll not deny it; 

My pen can never tell; 

I just say to you — well, 

If you have not already tried it, try it. 

At once she smiled and pouted, 

But let it not be doubted 
I whispered her and she to me reply did. 

I found out, after all, 

She was n’t mad at all, 

But liked it just about as well as I did. 


WOOING TIME. 


'*S 


With ecstacy elated, 

And joy intoxicated, 

With many kisses more I would have crowned her 
Sweet lips, but she resented, 

And only just consented 
That 1 might keep a single arm around her. 


But our first ride is ended; 

With joy and sadness blended 
I leave her at her home and go my way. 

I ’m sad that it is done, 

But glad that I have won 
My girl’s consent to come some other day. 

Oh, youth and maiden, mind, now, 

And see if you do n’t find, now, 

That what I am about to say is true: 

The happiest of ways known, 

And happiest of days known, 

Are lovers’ ways, and days when lovers woo. 


Yet I do n’t think it wise, 

And I would not advise 
That lovers ever love as lovers love. 
For lovers that have tarried 
The longest, when they ’re married 
Are sorry they so tarried in the move. 


Besides, it does no good 
To say that lovers should 
Embark not on the sea of matrimony, 
For they are sure to do it; 

They ’ll do it though they rue it, 
For in the doing of it is life’s honey. 


WOOING TIME . 


1 86 


What then ? Shall happy days end 
With marriage ? By no ways, friend; 

For there ’s a sweeter, better way of doing. 

Wed whom you love, by all means, 

But careful be through all scenes 
To make your wedded life a time of wooing. 

When Sunday night came round, 

’T is strange to say, it found 
Me come to take my darling out to church. 

And as we neared the fane, 

1 wished, but all in vain, 

That I had been left in the lover’s lurch. 

I am afraid the folks 
Will laugh, for it provokes 
A blush as red as poppies, if I ’m laughed at. 

But 1 ’m afraid to show it, 

I do n’t want her to know it 
For fear that I by her too will be chaffed at. 

But in we went together, 

I, giddy as a feather, 

With fear that I would faint or drop down dead. 

And just as we stepped in, 

Some devilish son of sin [gravely said. 

“Humph umph, humph umph, humph umph!” mock 


Of what the preacher said, 

I surely am afraid 

I heard but little; for I only thought 
No soldier, knight or king 
Had ever done a thing 
As brave as I did when my girl I brought 


WOOING TIME. 


187 


To church with me that night. 

1 felt so much delight 
At my display of valor that I waxed 
Conceited like a fool. 

And like a fop from school, 

My hat to hold my head was sorely taxed. 


But service ends at last, 

And in some needless haste 
I led my darling quickly from the door. 

With her to be alone 
I wished, I freely own, 

And for the quiet walk home wished for more. 


The night was rather dark. 

So that no eyes could mark 
Me if I squeezed her waist as on we walked. 
And round her gentle form 
I placed one pleasured arm, 

And ever squeezed her while to her I talked. 


Those sweet romantic walks, 

And her romantic talks. 

I walk again and hear her talk again, 

In dreams and reveries, 

Whenever fancy flees 
Into the past’s sweet, shadowy domain. 

My darling girl’s home has a 
Delightful low piazza 

Extending part way round, and in the shade 
We step and stop a minute. 

I wonder if a sin it 

Would be to kiss the dainty little maid. 


WOOING TIME . 


1 88 


Just then a cloud that sailed 
Along the sky and veiled 
The mistress of the night passed from her face, 
And in the flowing flood 
Of light my darling stood 
As lovely as an angel or a grace. 


The zephyrs moved her hair 
Round neck and shoulder fair, 

As image of the sculptor’s grand ideal. 

And her sweet face, upraised, 

Whereon I gazed and gazed, 

Smiled through the blushes she could not conceal. 


“How lovely !” spoke she lowly, 

And slowly, very slowly, 

My gazes left her face and followed hers, 

Where through the curtains rended 
The silver light descended, 

Illumining the cloudy mountain spurs. 

“How lovely!” she repeated, 

And turning her eyes greeted 
The admiration that looked out from mine. 

“How lovely !” I said then. 

“ How lovely ! ” once again. 

She blushed, and downward did her head incline. 


It was but momentary, 

That moonlight, for the airy 
Sky phantoms cloaked the moon in an eclipse. 
And in the gloom I pressed 
My darling to my breast, 

And stole a dozen kisses from her lips. 


WOOING TIME . 


189 


She had asked me inside 
Before, but I ’d replied 
That it was late and I would homeward go. 

So when I kissed her she 
Demurely said to me, 

“Good-night,” but I still held her by me so. 

She could n’t leave. She laughed. 

The cunning and the craft 
Of her good-night had failed. She did n’t care. 
She pinched my arm. I threatened 
That even if she mittened 
Me, 1 would kiss her if she did but dare 

Again to pinch my arm. 

But nothing could alarm 
The little rogue. She pinched me harder still. 
I, as I ’d threatened I ’d do, 

Her closely to my side drew, 

And kissed her with an eager, loving will. 


Good-night is hard to say 
For sweethearts anyway, 

And yet there ’s sweetness in the bitter mixed ; 

’T is very sweet in saying 
But bitter after paying 

The sweet adieus and leaving, though you ’ve fixed 


Another early meeting ; 

And this is why repeating 
Good-night is practiced by so many beaux. 

I oftentimes returned 
And other kisses earned 

By disremembering something — what, who knows? 


190 


WOOING TIME. 


We loved each other, oh ! yes ; 

And told each other so, yes ; 

But not at first, and not for many days ; 

For where ’s the need of doing so 
In words when lovers, wooing, know 
The secret by a thousand other ways. 

We always were together, 

In any kind of weather; 

If fine, we strolled, or took a buggy-ride ; 

But if to storm it threatened, 

We in her parlor met, and 

Talked, read and played, or day-dreamed, side by side. 

The village balls we danced at — 

That is, she did ; it chanced that 
I could n’t dance, but still I liked to see 
At all the balls her figure ; 

And dancing masters, dig your 
Last holes or say she danced most gracefully. 


At public celebrations, 

And public congregations 
Of other kinds, we always were a pair ; 

At parties and at games, 

And all the sports that names 
Invention has found out for, we were there. 

We loved each other too well, 

I sometimes think ; but who, tell, 

Would grumble that a love like this had grown ? 
We loved each other so 
We always felt, I know, 

Alone a crowd aud in all crowds alone. 


WOOING TIME. 


I 9 I 

There is a strange lone butte 
That stands in grand and mute 
Sublimity in Logan County here. 

Its rocky shoulders rise 
And tower in the skies 
In lonely grandeur, no companions near. 


This sunny Kansas clime 
Saw in some ancient time 
The country’s surface level with the butte. 
Erosion must have worn 
The soil away and borne 
The earth away around its rocky foot. 


The grassy plain expands 
Around it where it stands 
A monument of deep solemnity ; 

In this empire of plains 
It holds the eye, and chains 
The mind as does grand mountain scenery. 

Nine miles from Russell Springs, 

Nine as the eagle wings, 

Old lone Lone Butte takes its eternal stand. 
In one of our long rides 
We clambered up its sides, 

And gazed upon the prospect wide and grand. 


New York, on the Atlantic, 

And Boston, the pedantic, 

We saw, as well as eastern cities more; 
Galveston, on the bay; 

Chicago, far away, 

And San Francisco, on the western shore. 


192 


WOOING TIME. 


And Kansas, like a map 
Spread out upon the lap 
Of luxury and happiness, we saw. 

0 sunny Kansas land ! 

O sunny empire, grand ! 

The home of peace and equitable law ! 

We stood there on the brink 
Of old Lone Butte; and think ! 

What joy it was when in my arms I pressed 
My girl, and gave her this — 

The most conspicuous kiss 
That Logan county lovers ever kissed. 


We sat down on the edge 
Of one steep, giddy ledge 
And then my darling said, her face aglow 
With happiness: “Oh, Scud, 

There ’s something that I would 
Be glad to tell you, ere we homeward go. 


“I had a dream last night, 

And in the dream my flight 
Of fancy was as wide as all creation. 
My vision was so lengthened, 

And mortal sight so strengthened, 
That all the universe in exultation 


“I gazed upon, and lo! 

In Heaven’s courts, aglow 
With light of sempiternal love, behold ! 

I saw a cherub there 
Approach an angel fair 

And whisper: * Let us leave these realms of gold, 


WOOING TIME . 


*93 


“ ‘And through the wide abysses 
And intricate recesses 
Of this wide universe our way explore ! ’ 

The angel smiled assent, 

And they together bent 

Their balanced flight from Heaven’s jasper door. 


“Down ’mong the rolling spheres, 
Where desolation hears 
Alone the swelling organs of the skies, 
The happy pair came winging, 
Through airy circles swinging, 
Unto each other singing melodies. 


“At last they reach our planet; 
Delightedly they scan it; 

‘And this,’ the cherub said, ‘is man’s abode! 
Oh, how it rivals Heaven 
In glories to it given ! 

Let ’s pause — I’m weary on the airy road.’ 


“And in the midst of space 
They rest them in their race — 

Both lovely as the morning star at dawn ; 
Admiringly they gazed, 

And still admired and praised, 

The shifting scenes as earth came rolling on. 

“The Rocky Mountains first 
Upon their vision burst, 

Their lofty peaks crowned with eternal snows, 
And valleys green between ; 

In one romantic scene 

They turn and gaze at as it onward flows. 

—13 


i 9 4 


WOOING TIME. 


“Then the sublime Pacific, 

The grand hieroglyphic, 

That spells of God in winds and waves of balm; 
Filled them with awe and wonder 
As void of storms and thunder 
It tranquilly reposed in holy calm. 

“The Indies’ spicy groves 
Tradition’s tongue still loves 
To picture sprouting from a soil of gems ; 

Swept under them and past 
Down the retreating east, 

And India into their vision swims. » 


“Its sacred rivers winding 
Among its jungles finding 
Their wild meandering courses to the sea, 

Its mountains and its plains, 

Its costly heathen fanes 
They gaze upon amazed beyond degree. 

“Arabia, the haunt 
Of fancied beings wont 
To work by magic wonders manifold, 

Passed in the grand review, 

And in the east withdrew 
While other scenes across the landscape rolled. 


“The sites of ancient splendor 
Beside the great sea yonder — ■ 

Rome, Carthage, Egypt, Babylon, and Greece, 
Jerusalem, the holy, — 

All ruins melancholy, 

They saw them pass and in the east decrease. 


WOOING TIME. 


*95 


“And modern Europe swept 
Into their ken, and stepped 
Behind, and the Atlantic roared beneath 
In stormy ruin rended 
The winds and billows blended 
While it did ever thunder, roar and seethe. 


“Then said the angel fair : 

‘What shrine arises there 
And floats the rainbow on its marbled dome?’ 
‘That is,’ the cherub said, 

‘ The shrine of freedom made, 

And this great land is freedom’s happy home. 


“ ‘But that is not the rainbow 
Whose rainbow-colored folds flow 
Above yon dome and o’er this land you see, 
But mortal beings brag of 
That ensign as the flag of 
The beautiful and true, and brave and free.’ 


“The cherub said, ‘Urbama, 

There ’s one more panorama 
I want to show to you before we go.’ 

The plains of Kansas then 
In their angelic ken 

Appeared, and spread their lovely lengths below. 

“ ‘What do you think of her?’ 

He said. ‘ Oh that we were 
Two mortals living here !’ Urbama cried. 

‘ ’T is Eden, is it not ? 

It must be that sweet spot 
Where angel Adam lived with Eve, his bride I’ 


196 


WOOING TIME . 


The cherub scratched his head; 

It puzzled him. He said: 

* They call it Kansas, so it cannot be 
That lovely paradise 
That Satan, by his lies, 

Secured from men for death and misery ! * 

“ ‘ Is it the place that God 
Prepared for man’s abode 
When they were driven out of Eden, then ? 

If so, they need not care much, 

For they can never fare much 
Worse here than there. Oh, happy, happy men ! 

*“ ’T is Eden, and ’t is not; 

’T is not, and is, the spot 
Prepared for men when they lost Paradise. 

It is the home of mirth 
And happiness on earth — 

And what more have we beings of the skies ? 9 

“ They praised this sunny land, 

Its towns and cities and 
Its rural homes; but as those angels sung then 
Poor me can never sing. 

But, Scud, the strangest thing 
Was this, that — that — that — ” 

“Our home was among them ! 

“I know that’s what you mean; 

You blush as I have seen 
You blush before.” And then upon my shoulder 
She hid her face, and I 
Did kiss her lovingly, 

And tried how closely to me I could hold her. 


WOOING TIME. 


T 97 


“You mean old thing,” she said, 

And blushed a rosy red. 

“Our home shall be here, too, my rose-lipped lily; 
Kiss me, to tell me so.” 

“Just talk a little slow,” 

She said, “or first you know I ’ll box you silly.” 

The suu went down; the moon 
Came up, though, pretty soon, 

And in its soft, sweet light we homeward rode. 
We talked and laughed and sang, 

The silent prairies rang 
The mirth of our hilarity abroad. 


One whole bright summer sped 
As lovingly we led 
The happy life that lovers ever lead; 

But when old winter came 
Our pleasures were the same, 

For love the times and seasons does not heed. 

We from the first had known 
Our loving hearts had grown 
To hold each other dearer than dear life. 

But still I did not ask. 

Oh ! sweet, delightful task ! 

My darling when she meant to be my wife. 


One balmy autumy day, 

As we did slowly stray 
Into a little glen near Russell Springs, 

I clasped and kissed her sweetly, 

And told her how completely 
My heart had fled away on passion’s wings. 


198 


WOOING TIME. 


“Sweet darling girl, I love you, 

And angel darling dove, you 
Are mine, all mine; you love me, don’t you, sweet?” 
The kiss she gave said yes, 

And under its impress 
We felt our hearts as one begin to beat. 

But oh ! we quarreled one day; 

’T was on a sunny Sunday, 

And shattered down our dream of happiness. 

I do n’t know what the war was, 

But do know what the jar was: 

’T was the extract of Hell, I must confess. 


We thought our pride was wounded, 

And we would be confounded 
Before we would attempt to make it up. 

And for two days ! we still 
Wound up that stubborn will. 

But then we had enough of quarrel’s cup. 

If I e’er war again 
With one I love, I fain 

Would have six hundred thousand men to boot me. 
For when it reached the worst, 

I felt so much accursed, 

I wanted some one to get mad and shoot me. 

On Tuesday night I went, 

For I could not prevent 
Myself from going to her home to see her. 

I guess she thought I ’d come, 

For there she was at home. 

Oh ! how I longed to run and press to me her. 


WOOING TIME. 


l 99 


She in the hammock swung, 

There where the hammock hung 
In the piazza where she always waited. 

She did n’t come to meet me, 

And looked not up to greet me, 

As on the gravel beds my footsteps grated. 

I sat down by her side, 

And marked then that she cried, 

And cursed myself for giving her annoy; 
But sat down by her side, 

And whispered “Pretty bride,” 

And kissed her many, many times for joy." 


I clasped my arms around her, 

And she, the darling, wound her 
Sweet loving arms around me, and we pressed 
In an embrace so sweet, 

’T was ecstacy complete, 

And many, many times each other kissed. 


But then we warred again, 

And gave each other pain, 

And many sad, long days in quarrels lost. 

We fought some horrid wars, 

But on our hearts no scars 
Were left — they were but trial wars at most. 

But lovers quarrel must, 

And lovers will, I trust, 

Have some misunderstandings ere they wed. 
For no way can they learn 
Each other’s traits and turn 
Of mind as well as when there ’s war ahead. 


WOOING TIME . 


And they can never learn 
How hearts must bleed and burn, 

And for their idols yearn if they should sever, 
Unless to war they go, 

And plunge in pain and woe 
Of wars they think can terminate, no, never. 


In her warm parlor bright 
One howling winter night, 

As I sat reading to her from our book — 

A library of song — 

I thought ’t would be no wrong 
If on my knee my darling girl I took. 

She did n’t know my mind, 

And had she 1 ’m inclined 
To think it had n’t been so easy for me. 

But presently I said, 

“These pictures here are made 
So wretched in design they sadly bore me.” 

She came to look at them, 

And then I said, “Ahern !” 

And let the book fall down upon the floor. 

And threw my arms around her, 

And first she knew she found her- 
Self down upon my knee; and, what is more, 

I held her closely there. 

It was a deep old chair 
Wherein we were half sitting, half reclining; 

While she fought I was kissing her, 

And to me closely pressing her. 

When struggling does no good, why, then, resigning 


WOOING TIME. 


201 


Is policy and sense. 

So thought my darling; hence 
Submitting, she upon my shoulder laid 
Her head; and I unbound 
Her silken hair, and round 
Her shoulders it descended; and I played 

With its soft, wavy tresses, 

And kisses and caresses 
Exchanged with her, to sweeten loving chat. 
Time never seemed to me 
To speed so blissfully, 

As when upon my knees my darling sat. 

Oh ! gone those happy times 
My simple poem rhymes, 

And gone to be repeated never more. 

We cannot call them back, friends, 
Those times along the track, friends, 

Of long ago to live their pleasures o’er. 


Old Winter passed away, 

And Springtime, glad and gay, 
Returned, that merry time wherein we met. 
For ’t was the sunny Springtime, 

The early blossoming-time 
Of April, that my loving little pet 

Exchanged her heart for mine. 

And at each day’s decline 
We counted one more passed away in joy. 
For care we always banished, 

And let each day that vanished, 

In idle, roguish fun our time employ. 


202 


WOOING TIME. 


Spring fled and Summer came, 

And brought the very same 
Delights that Spring had strewn along our way. 
For love will always find, sir, 

Those pleasant paths that wind, sir, 

Among those scenes where lovers like to stray. 

The fourteenth of September 
It was, if I remember, 

When I induced my girl to name the day 
When she would be my wife; 

And from that hour life 
Did only wait to wear itself away. 


And yet I ’m bound to say, Miss, 

That from that happy day, Miss, 

Our conversation had a sweeter theme. 

We planned our future then, Miss, 

Again and o’er again, Miss, 

And wedded life was then our waking dream. 

Our wedding day was ever 
A subject that we never 
Exhausted, though it was a constant theme. 
Sometimes, as side by side 
We sat, I called her, “Bride,” 

And kissed her, and she never mad did seem. 

But sometimes, as I pressed 
Her to me and caressed 
Her form, and kissed her lips so kissable, 

She in my arms reclined, 

And her sweet lips resigned 
To kissing kisses made permissible. 


WOOING TIME. 


203 


And often she would rest 
Reclining on my breast, 

Me sitting in our cozy, deep old chair, 

While I to her would read; 

And happy hours would speed 
As minutes, while we read and rested there. 

But in those days that passed 
I labored hard and fast 
To make a home for my sweet little bride. 
And fortune paid my toil 
With such a wealthy spoil 
That luxury to us was not denied. 


And now as naught prevented 
Our wedding, she consented 
That on the morrow that glad day would dawn. 
And that night, at the door, 

I to her almost swore 
Next day would be an age in coming on. 

As in the moon’s soft light 
We strolled that blissful night, 

I kissed her lips upraised, and, whispering, said; 

“We say, ‘Good night’ to-night 
Here in the soft moonlight, 

Next night we ’ll say it in our — ” 

“I’m afraid 

“To-morrow won’t be sunny.” 

Now ain’t it just too funny 
That she should interrupt me as she did ? 

Well, what I meant to say 
In all the future may 
From mortal comprehension aye be hid. 


204 


WOOING TIME. 


“Sweet, little bride,” I said, 

“Your wedding dress is made, 

And I have never seen nor squeezed you in it. 

I ’m standing on tip-toe, 

So anxious I ’m to know 
What it is like. It won’t take you a minute 

“To go and put it on; 

Please do, I won’t be gone; 

I ’ll wait right here until you come, and squeeze you 
Like this, and kiss you, too, 

As even now I do; 

You ’ll do that me to please, I this to please you.” 


“ Oh ! it would take a long time 
To dress, and it ’s the wrong time 
To dress now, at disrobing-time. Do n’t borrow 
Anxiety to-day 
For what is on the way 
But cannot get here sooner than to-morrow.” 

“Your wedding dress,” I said, 

“My darling, must be made 
Low neck, and sleeveless, rich, and soft, and light; 
Your wedding dress by day 
Must be like that, I say, 

And just the same your dress must be by” — 

“Might 


Our wedding day be clear 1” 

Now ain’t it just too queer 
That she should cut into my speech and cause 
Me, ere I reach the end 
My talking to suspend 
And in the middle make eternal pause ! 


WOOING TIME. 


205 


“ Good love, will you regret 
When one more sun is set 
That our old loving, wooing days are ended ? ” 
“I’ll bless that lucky day, 

So come whatever may, 

Wherein our last loving wooing sun descended.” 


“Sweet love, will you regret, 

When one more sun is set, 

That wooing days and wedding day are over ? 

Will you not rather bless, 

I know you can’t do less, 

The fact that we may live, dream, sleep in clover ? ” 


“ You said awhile ago 
You stood upon tip-toe, 

So anxious you ’re to know about my dresses, 
And now I ’m on tip-toe; 

Kiss me and let me go 
To bed — and be not slow in the caresses.” 

And in my arms I pressed 
My darling to my breast 
And lovingly caressed her little form ; 

A dozen times I kissed 
Her rosy lips and pressed 
Her in embraces loving, close and warm. 

That dreamy, sweet night passed, 

And morning came at last, 

The morning of our happy wedding day. 

The golden dawn was blushing, 

And early beams were rushing 
Into the zenith, driving gloom away, 


206 


WOOING TIME. 


When I awoke. I dressed 
In feverish hot haste 
In morning suit and hurried to her home 
To be the first to meet her, 

To kiss her, squeeze her, greet her, 

And wish her bliss in that day that had come. 


I plucked some sweet wild flowers 
All fragrant with the showers 
Of dew that sparkled on their bloomy lips, 
Pond lilies from the mere, 

And other wild flowers dear, 

And lilies of the valley’s perfect slips. 


At her home none had stirred ; 

I listened and I heard 
No sound inside. I gently tried the door; 
It yielded, and I stepped 
Into her room. She slept, 

More beautiful she looked than e’er before. 

Upon the counterpane 
One arm and hand were lain, 

And one was on the pillow at her head. 
Smiles dimpled on her face 
As maiden dreams did chase 
Her girlish fancies in the race they led. 


Long time I stood and pondered 
And studied, thought and wondered 
If I should go unknown or waken her ; 

But as I gazed upon her, 

Upon my word of honor 
She spoke and smiled and in her sleep did stir. 


WOOING TIME. 


207 


I won’t tell what she said, 

For she do n’t want it made 
Known to another person than us two. 

She said, “I was just dreaming 
A dream of sweetest seeming, 

A dreaming seeming dreaming, love, of you.” 


One arm around her waist 
Most tenderly I placed 
And gave the flowers in her lily hand. 
I kissed her, she kissed me, 

And sweetly, lovingly — 

She is the dearest girl in all the land. 


I lifted her ; she said 
“Do n’t take me out of bed ! 

Oh, go outside and I will quickly dress.” 

But up into my arms 
Her form of such sweet charms 
I lifted and I clasped in a caress. 

She pouted, but no use; 

She struggled to get loose, 

But on the bed I sat and held her by me. 

“Sweet, put your stockings on,” 

I said, “And let’s be gone 

To see the sun rise. Please do. Kiss. Reply me.” 

She drew her stockings on, 

Her buskins soon were drawn 
By me upon her dainty little feet. 

“I love you in this dress,” 

I said. “ I like to press 
You in caresses, not your dresses, sweet.” 


WOOING TIME. 


208 

We walked down by the lake, 

And waited for the break 
Of level sunbeams o’er the eastern hills. 

And bye and bye the sun came, 

The east aglow with one flame 
That all the canopy of Heaven fills. 

“ My darling.little wife, 

This day begins our life. 

God make it like the day that now begins — 

0 day divinely fair ! 

You can but rapture bear. 

Love is the charm that bliss and pleasure wins.* 

She raised her sweet face fair, 

And on her lash a tear 
Hung sparkling in the early morning sun. 

1 kissed the tear away. 

‘ ‘ Thus, darling, ever may 
Your tears be kissed away when we are one.” 


That bright day was the last, 

# But sweetest as it passed, 

Of all our tender, happy wooing-time. 

For in the eve we said 
Our sacred vows, and wed 
Each other one forever. Tie sublime ! 

Perhaps I ought to stop here, 

The subject ought to drop here, 

For that’s the way love-writers always do ; 

But I have found that fun 
Is only just begun 

When wooing days are past, and wedding, too. 


WOOING TIME. 


209 


That evening as the gloaming 
Along the world was coming, 

We left her home, and after us was thrown 
In fun the lucky token, 

And good adieus were spoken 
By old assembled friends we long had known. 


The moon was brightly shining, 

To yellow gold refining 
The spangles on the robings of the night, 

As through the moony-gloam 
We neared our cottage home 
That looked a fairy home by dim moonlight. 


Vines clamber up its walls, 

And clustering foliage falls 
Around its doors and windows everywhere. 
And all its drooping eaves, 

A mass of vines and leaves, 

And blossoms in rich, sweet profusion bear. 

The lawn that round it spreads 
With ornamental beds 

Of blooms and clumps of shrubbery is decked; 
And just across the road, there 
The lakelet’s level, broad, clear 
Expanse of silver dances, bubble-flecked. 

Beyond the lake, a wood 
Encircles, like a hood, 

The brows of forest hills; and far away 
More lofty summits rise 
And pierce the shadowy skies, 

And there the great, loud city glows like day. 
-14 


210 


WOOING TIME. 


We pass the gate and go 
Across the lawn where low 
Around a portico the vines are hung. 

I clasped her round the waist, 

And stooped, her lips to taste, 

As, arm around me placed, she to me clung. 

And then we paused, to gaze 
Around our home and praise 
The spot where we would dwell together now. 
Such perfect happiness 
Did mortals never bless; 

And then again we spoke our nuptial vow. 

“And this is our sweet home,” 

She said, “where we may come, 

When we do n’t want to roam, to here abide !” 

“Love made this home, my love, 

And love and God above 
Will bless us and our home. Let ’s go inside.” 

About an hour after, 

A sudden sound of laughter 
Vibrated beam and rafter ’round our home; 

A party serenading, 

Around our house parading, 

Had gathered in the aiding of the gloam. 

The girls were sweetly singing, 

Discordant bells were ringing, 

And echos ’round were bringing back the sound 
But suddenly a booming, 

Like triple thunder dooming 
The sphere to its entombing, roared around. 


WOOING TIME. 


211 


And then the girls were screaming, 

And volleyed fires were gleaming, 

And we were not quite dreaming, truth to tell, 
For volleyed guns were firing, 

And boys were then aspiring 
To awe the grim, admiring fiends of Hell; 


And thunder tones were calling, 

And earthquake sounds were bawling 
In deafening, appalling, jarring roars, 

As though the trump were calling 
The spheres, and they were falling 
To havoc through infernal, brawling doors. 


“Oh ! do invite them in,” 

She says, “and stop the din.” 

And in they came — a crowd as gay and free 
As ever made the devils mad 
With din, or made the devils sad 
With envy at a wild charivari. 

They laughed and joked and played 
Through half an hour they stayed, 

And tripped gay measures on the floors and lawn. 
Then in a troop departed, 

So gay and merry-hearted, 

The calm seems doubly deeper when they ’re gone. 


’Mong forms from out the past, 

The first to come, and last 
To go again, is my sweet, darling bride 
As she appeared that night 
When standing in the light 
Of moonbeams at the window by my side. 


212 


WOOING TIME. 


Her lovely arms denuded, 

The gods might have deluded, 

To think they were the arms of some sweet grace. 
And her sweet, white throat bare, 

Like alabaster fair, 

Was pure and beautiful as that rich lace 


That donned with loveliness 
Her second wedding dress, 

That fell around and graced her lovely form, 
As trying to conceal, 

But serving to reveal 

Its symmetry and each sweet hidden charm. 


A sweet, confiding form 
Love loves to clasp in warm 
Embraces and caresses o’er and o’er. 

A form formed for caresses, 

A shape shaped for embraces, 

A form to idolize, love and adore. 

But more than half her grace 
Was in her sweet, fair face 
That smiled and blushed and pouted all in one. 
That smiled when I caressed her, 

That blushed when close I pressed her, 
That pouted when I kissed her lips in fun. 

If Heaven holds delight 
As sweet as was that night 
When slept beside me first my little bride, 
Clasped, petted, loved, caressed, 

Squeezed, happy, wooed and kissed, 

E’en in her dreamy sleep, I ’m satisfied. 


WOOING TIME . 


213 


But I do n’t ask to die, 

For tell me, why should I ? 

When lovely, sweet and loving still, my bride 
Is mine as when we wed, 

Or life of lovers led, 

And happy day or night still by my side. 


One more scene, reader dear, 

And, reader, I ’ll forbear — 

A scene of wedded life. Go to our home, 
Where my sweet child and wife, 

The idols of my life, 

Are waiting in the evening till I come. 


She ’s talking to the boy: 

He, with full many a toy, 

Is romping in delight upon the floor. 
If you are pleased to hear, 

Then, reader, draw you near, 
And listen at the airy open door. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


The day has flown, my pet, 

The smiling sun is set, 

The valleys, groves and hills are wrapped in shade; 
The birds to rest have gone, 

And on the level lawn 
The crickets sing their twilight serenade. 


The solemn owl’s to-whoo 
The woodland echoes through, 

And in the gathering gloom the fire-flies gleam; 
While in the calm and still 
I hear the whippoorwill 
Replying to the babble of the stream. 

The stars peep out on high 
And gem the vaulted sky 
With rubies, garnets, diamonds and pearls. 

And through the window there, 

The gentle zephyrs bear 
Sweet odors as they toss your tumbled curls. 


My baby, my sweet boy, 

Looks up and laughs for joy, 

When through his hair the listless night-wind blows. 
He loves to hear it sigh, 

And feel it wafting by 
The fragrance of the lily and the rose. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


2I 5 


But from his lap his toys 
He scatters now with noise, 

And pattering across the floor to me, 

Close by my side he stands, 

Uplifting dimpled hands, 

And says, “Take baby, mamma, on your knee.” 

His large, dark eyes are bright, 

But in their lustrous light 
There is a shadow of faint weariness. 

With head upon my breast, 

In attitude of rest, 

He laughingly returns each fond caress. 

Now, baby, in repose 
Your drowsy eyelids close. 

And while I sing a lullaby to you, 

Let calm and peaceful sleep 
My baby’s senses steep 
In slumber gentle as the evening dew. 

LULLABY. 

[Wooing Time, Wedding Day and Married Life being not at first in- 
tended for publication, this lullaby, adapted and slightly altered, Was 
used in Elblanke, fourth act and fourth scene.— Editor.] 

Sweet sirens, come and bring 

Your harps a song to sing 

In rapturous rhyme and soul-subduing numbers. 

So sweetly sound each string, 

Such lovely music ring, 

That baby soon shall sink in soothing slumbers. 

Come, mermaids, from the dells, 

Among the ocean swells, 

In many a merry, graceful, gliding band, 

And wind your sounding shells, 

And with your magic spells 
Transport my baby into fairy-land. 


21 6 


MARRIED LIFE . 


How musical the night ! 

The mild and mellow light 
From moon and stars like molten music streams. 
It comes in rapid flight, 

Like cherubs robed in white, 

And beckons baby to the clime of dreams. 


Now dewy-pinioned sleep 
Comes sinking down the steep 
Of slumbering heaven’s wide expanded dome, 
And with an airy sweep 
Of downy wings, to keep 
Her floating, lingers in our happy home. 


With her pure phantom dreams 
Come driving with their teams 
Of elfin horses harnessed to their cars. 

To baby’s mind it seems 
They ride the brilliant beams 
Of light descending from the distant stars. 

The baby with them goes, 

And laughs, and coos, and crows 
At all the antics of the merry crew; 

The mother from the room 
Into the demi-gloom 

Walks out among the flowers moist with dew. 

Fond mother ! Young and fair, 

With pretty, floating hair, 

White neck and arms, and sweet, angelic face; 
She seems while standing there 
A being of the air, 

So lovely is her form, and full of grace. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


217 


The wooded hills appear 
Their giant forms to rear 
Against the starry portals of the sky, 

To form old, mystic roads 
Down which, from their abodes, 

The angels, when they visit earth, may fly. 


Down through their lonely glades, 

Beneath their forest shades, 

The stream comes babbling in its pebbly bed; 
It laughs along its way, 

And murmurs, as in play, 

But hastens with the lakelet to be wed. 

The turnpike runs between 
The lakelet and the green 
And flowery grounds around the cottage home; 
It winds around the shore 
Whereon the ripples pour 
In music, mirth, and flecks of snowy foam. 


She leaves the swinging vines, 

Through which the silver lines 
Of light come dancing through the open door, 
And down the gravel ways 
Across the lawn she strays, 

And through the gate, to Silver Lake’s low shore. 

Beside its level brim 
She stands, and in its dim 
And mazy depths looks down and sees below, 
Another firmament 
With starry jewels sprent, 

Which dance like fire-flies when the breezes blow. 


21 8 


MARRIED LIFE. 


She ’s waiting there for me, 

And hoping soon to see 
Me coming round the lakelet’s winding shore; 
But down the steep incline 
I walk, with the design 
To cross the lake unto our cottage door. 


As I step from the shade, 

Into an open glade 

Beside the lake, I gaze across and see 
Our vine-clad cottage home 
Which, in the moony gloam, 
Looks lovelier than e’er before to me. 


The light streams through the vines 
And runs in glancing lines 
Across the rippling waters of the mere; 

And like enchantment seems 
The water where it gleams 
And gambols with the silver moonbeams clear. 

And there my darling wife — 

The idol of my life, 

My heart’s Elblanke, treasure of my soul — 

Is waiting till I come 
To baby, her and home, 

The port of bliss wherein no shadows roll. 

Into a light canoe 
I step and paddle through 
A lily bank and pluck a sweet bouquet 
Of pure pond lilies fair, 

To give my darling there, 

Who waits and wonders why so late I stay. 


MARRIED LIFE . 


219 


The little birchen boat 
Rocks gently as I float 
As silently as shadow of the wing 
Of seraph through the breeze 
To my sweet wife, who sees 
Me not until I softly to her sing : 

“The breezes waft me, darling, 

To the shore whereon you stand, 
Waiting for me, waiting for me, 

And gladder to thee, darling, 

Our home, our baby and 
The bliss with you to be 
Do I come, 

Than the wanderer returning 

Gazes weeping on the land 

Of his birth, or the pilgrim 

Mounts to join the cherub band 

In far-off Heaven’s sweet eternal home.” 


She reaches forth her hands 
In welcome as she stands 
There on the pebbly margin of the lake, 

I clasp within my arms 
Her form of fairy charms 
And from her lips upturned sweet kisses take. 


And in my arms I hold her, 

And to my heart enfold her, 

And wonder if she ’s happy as I be; 

I kiss her lips and brows, 

And wonder if she knows 
My bliss when she tip-toes and kisses me. 


220 


MARRIED LIFE. 


I place upon her throat 
The lilies, and I note 

Her throat and breast are like the lily fair: 

I would n’t give my wife 
For everlasting life 

In any realms where she could not be there. 

‘ ‘ Do you remember, pet, 

That day when first we met ? 

’T was sixty merry, happy months ago.” 

The roguish little minx 
Smiles sweetly as she thinks 
How I heels over head was plunged in — woe ? Oh, no. 

But into love for her. 

“I don’t forget, no, sir, 

And fear I never shall forget it, neither, 

For my heart fled away 
That selfsame happy day 

And wouldn’t come home till you brought it, either.” 

“Do you remember, then, 

The day when in the glen 
We strolled, and I so lovingly caressed you 
And kissed your lips, like this ? — 

Oh, bliss in loving kiss ! 

And in a long embrace so fondly pressed you?” 

“The day you called me thine, 

And whispered, ‘ Mine, all mine,’ 

And kissed me, pressed me to you, and caressed me, 
And called me sweetheart, wife, 

Bride, idol of your life. 

Caressed me, kissed me, and close to you pressed me ? ” 


MARRIED LIFE. 


221 


“Do you remember, too, 

When in the church I drew 
This little hand in mine and we were wed ? ” 
“That day of blissful joy ! 

No agent can destroy 

Remembrance of the sacred vows we said.” 

“ Of course you can’t forget, 

My darling little pet, 

How, in the evening after we were wed, 

To this sweet cottage home 
Together we did come, 

And kissed each other in — ” 

“ That eve you led 

Me round this winding shore 
To our low cottage door, 

Where we since then have dwelt so happy ever; 
And I slept by your side ” — 

“The sweetest little bride” — 

“Your happy wife, your darling, yours forever.” 

“Sweet, do you mind that day, 

’T was in the merry May, 

A little stranger came with us to live ? 

You were as proud as sin, 

And sent and called me in, 

To show me what a present you could give. 

“I did n’t think I would, 

And never dreamed I could, 

I felt so much your little, girlish bride; 

And when our baby came, 

I was n’t much to blame, 

If my fond, silly heart did swell with pride.” 


222 


MARRIED LIFE. 


“But let ’s go to our baby; 

He is so sweet that maybe 
An angel might come down and steal him from us; 
And if he should be taken, 

We, broken-heart-forsaken, 

Would feel our sweet life’s joy a broken promise.” 


With one arm closely wound 
Her little form around, 

We walk along, conversing on the way. 

“Have you been happy, dear, 

Alone with baby here, 

While I ’ve been absent ? Have you, darling, say ?” 

“Oh, yes; I played with him, 

And cozy, neat and trim 
Prepared at eve to welcome you at home; 

Then sang him into sleep, 

And came my watch to keep 
Here by the lake until you home would come. 


“But when the huge old shadows 
Came creeping o’er the meadows, 
Across the mountains, and along the shore, 
And night behind came driving, 

I longed for your arriving 
A little more than any time before.” 


“They said the honeymoon 
Would pass; then, pretty soon, 

Life would get prosy, common-place, and dull. 
One honeymoon don’t wane ; 

And if it does, again 

With trusting love we’ll fill its round orb full.” 


MARRIED LIFE. 


223 


Upon the portico 
We step, but ere we go, 

Into our cozy parlor step — and why? 

We both are thinking now 
And smiling to think how 
We stopped thus in the happy time gone by. 

I speak : “An eve like this 
It was when I a kiss 

Did plant upon this selfsame spot, that eve 
When first I called you mine, 

And on these lips of thine 
I now will place another, by your leave.” 

“This seems so like that night ! 

The moon serene and bright, 

The star-lit evening balmy, dewy, fair, 

And everything the same” — 

“Except one thing I’ll name — 

Your little roguish, mimic heir in there.” 


Upon the evening air 
Her laughter ripples clear, 

And echos take its mirth up and repeat it. 

“If ever I begin 
A sentence, you put in, 

And in your awkward, bearish way complete it.” 


We step inside, and there 
Wide in a wondering stare 
Are baby’s big, black, innocent, bright eyes. 
She springs away from me 
And runs to him, and he 
Laughs merrily and babbles babywise. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


The picture is so beautiful 
I vow, as I ’hi a dutiful 
God-worshipper, I ’d rather on it gaze 
Than have the gold and gems 
Of all the diadems 

E’er worn by princesses in by-gone days. 


The parlor is so tidy 
And cozy, cheerful, I ’d be 
A monster if I did n’t bless my wife ; 

The table ready spread, 

Our supper on ft laid, 

My chair — who is not wed has not known life. 

She brings the baby’s high-chair 
And sets the baby nigh where 
She sits at table, then comes back for me, 

And through the dining-room door, 

Across the dining-room floor 
We pass, I leading her, she leading me. 

Beside my knee she kneels 
And to our God appeals 
For his good blessing on ourselves and home, 

And thanks Him for His mercies. 

I know our Father her sees 
And looks down smiling on her from Heaven’s dome. 

She pours the steaming tea, 

And stoops and kisses me, 

‘You serve the dessert first,” I say to her. 

‘ * To your tea be it savor, 

And to your food be flavor — 

‘I’ll give another kiss for dessert, sir.” 


MARRIED LIFE . 


225 


Her nearest cheek discloses 
The fairest of fair roses, 

Blushed in complexion like the lily fair. 
To see her glow with health, 

To me is costly wealth 
And happiness almost beyond compare. 


“I might think you an angel, 

But would it not be strange, tell, 

If angel should have appetite so good ?” 

“ The husband does not duty 
If his wife’s health or beauty 
Fades; they all live on love and drink and food.” 

“No wonder you stay pretty, 

For if it be not witty 

’T is truth to say that I give you such love 
As that the loving mortal 
Will live on when the portal 
Is crossed that parts this realm from that above.” 


But we with our repast 
Are satisfied at last, 

And I take baby, while she clears away 
The table, and arranges 
The dining-room. How strange ’t is 
Disorder flies from woman’s tact away. 

I mark how deft her fingers are, 

And how she often lingers near. 

To cast a glance at baby, and she smiles. 
And ere her tasks are finished, 

The distance has diminished 
’Twixt babe and sleep a dozen million miles. 
—15 


226 


MARRIED LIFE. 


His little head is nodding, 

And leisurely he ’s plodding 
The long, long lane to fairyland in dreams. 
And when her task she ends, 

And she above me bends, 

He ’s driving slumber cars and fairy teams. 

In bed she places him, 

And first embraces him, 

And kisses his red, ruby lips again. 

“You precious darling quaint,” 

She says; “You dearest daint, 

The angels keep your little self from pain.” 


I get sublime, sweet Shakespeare, 

The while my darling takes here 
By me her place to listen to his lines. 

Sublime, sweet words of gold, 

Truths of the heart well told, 

Gems from the deathless Bard of Avon’s mines. 


As I read on she rises 
To get the place she prizes, 

Upon my knee, reclining on my breast. 
One arm behind me clasped, 

One on my shoulder placed, 

Her head upon my shoulder sinks to rest. 


And then I lay the book down, 

And on my darling look - down 
And kiss her lips upturned so temptingly. 
“Were you not happier, sweet, 

Down where the surges beat 
In booming thunder on the sullen sea ? ” 


MARRIED LIFE. 


227 


She shakes her head. “ Were you 
Not happier on the blue 
Expanse of ocean voyaging along; 

Did you not better love 
Upon the main to rove, 

And listen to the sea’s eternal song ? ” 

She shakes her head. Most surely 
Her silence is but purely 
Abstraction, so demurely does she smile. 

But now I guess I ’ll get her: 

“Were you not pleased much better 
When in those foreign lands we roamed awhile ?” 

She shakes her head. “Well, pretty, 

Life in the bustling city 
Then certainly is your selected sphere. 

The theaters and ball-rooms, 

The fetes in brilliant hall-rooms 
Love you the best of all; now do n’t they, dear ?” 

She shakes her head. I ’m puzzled; 

In mystery I ’m muzzled. 

•‘1 guess, then, that you love our cottage home 
The best; for it can’t be 
That anywhere with me 
Is best, wherever under Heaven’s dome.”* 

“I love the seaside fondly; 

And, oh ! sublimely, grandly, 

Life bounds upon the bosom of the deep; 

And foreign lands have charms, 

But native land still warms 
Emotions that in other lands do sleep. 


♦In the original MS. there was penciled across this verse these 
words: “Compliments from yon are sweet, though begged for.”— E d. 


228 


MARRIED LIFE. 


“I love tlie rush and hurry 
Of city life, and flurry 
Of animation in those human seas; 

I love the balls and dramas, 

And public fetes, the same as 
All pleasures of those gay societies. 

“These are good in their places, 

But still my mind embraces 
Most eagerly the thought of fixed, loved ho... 
Some sweet, secluded bay, 

Some harbor where we may 
For shelter from all tempests of life come. 


“Contentment still the price is, 
Variety the spice is, 

Of happiness in life, wher’er we live. 
And with you I am happy, 

As I now in your lap be; 

I ’m happy in the love I get and give.” 


“Love, sing a song for me.” 

With prompt alacrity 
She goes to the piano, where I ’ve placed 
The lazy sofa near 
Her side, so I can hear, 

And put my arm around her dainty waist. 


She shyly blows the light out, 

But from the lonely night out 
The fairy moonbeam sprites come dancing in, 
And, like the souls of rapture 
That music's strains recapture, 

An airy, spirit, elfin dance begin. 


MARRIED LIFE . 


229 




She strikes the keys so lightly 
And aimlessly, I rightly 
Conjecture that she studies what to sing. 
But still her hands are moving, 
Along the key-board roving, 

In airy touch above each waiting string. 


And by degrees she loses 
Herself, and never chooses 
The song she meant at first to sing for me. 

The magic strains come stealing 
Around, and rouse a feeling 
Of rapture by their soulful harmony. 

Like memories of childhood, 

And romping in the wildwood, 

They came aud vanished like the flitting dreams. 
A solemn shade of sadness 
Ban through the mirth and gladness: 

I wonder that in fitting place it seems. 


Its flowing volume timely, 

Flowed sweetly and sublimely 
Along as flows the river of our lives. 

And then in foamy bubbles, 

And obstacles and troubles, 

As though its toils were doubled, forward strives. 


The movement seems to labor; 

I think then of that neighbor, 

The girl I loved, my wife, and I at school. 
The army of old books 
We studied comes and looks 
Upon us under our old master’s rule. 


230 


MARRIED LIFE. 


But memories throng thicker, 

The music’s pulse beats quicker. 
And with my girl again I am in love. 

We walk again those walks, 

And talk again those talks, 

Which aye so blissful to all lovers prove. 


Then the piano throbbed 
As though its strings had robbw 
The harps of Heaven of their angel voices. 

Again I loved and kissed, 

And wedded and caressed 
My sweetheart bride with whom my heart rejoices. 

Then like the present ran 
Its tones, but soon began 
To grope the future’s clouded, unknown sea. 

They to go forward yearned, 

But, baffled, they returned, 

And then expired in uncertainty. 


She softly down before 
Me knelt upon the floor, 

And yielded her sweet form into my arms. 

In an embrace I pressed her, 

And passionately kissed her, 

And worshipped at the shrine of her loved charms. 


No word by either spoken; 

In silence all unbroken, 

Except by gentle night-sounds from outside. 
Communing soul with soul, 

We sit while minutes roll 
In silver silence onward in time’s tide. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


231 


“My husband, now as when 
You wooed, we are a twain 
Of mortals happy with each other ever. 
Is there a difference? 

If so, wherein and whence ? 
Explain it; for perceive it I can never.” 


“Our evenings are as sweet. 

Our pleasures as complete, 

As in those hours I then did keep with you. 

But when bed-time is come, 

Instead of going home 
As then, I go to bed and sleep with you.” 

“Old bear ! I might have known it. 

I really would n’t own it 
If I were you and could n’t talk more knightly. 

If I to-night should choose 
For spite work to refuse 

To sleep with you, I think I’d serve you rightly.” 


“Oh, well, my own, you would n’t 
Do that; because you could n’t. 

I’d take you up like this and carry you 
Along to bed with me. 

For, pretty, do n’t you see, 

You gave me right to when you let me marry you.” 


We walk out on the lawn. 

Oh, what a picture drawn 
Around us in the vision of the eye ! 
Lawn, cottage, lake and hills 1 
Oh, wondrous beauty fills 
The canopy of the deep-vaulted sky. 


MARRIED LIFE 


232 


Along the dewy grass, * 

We ’mong the arbors pass, 

And through the gate and to the lakelet’s shore. 
We step into the boat, 

Push off, and drift afloat, 

As we have drifted many nights before. 


Wrapped in a wrap I caught 
From off the rack and brought 
Along, she does recline in the canoe, 

And leans upon me while 
I row, and we beguile 
The happy time by old tales told anew. 

“My darling little wife, 

The ship of wedded life 
Should sail as smoothly as the shallops glide. 

No storm need rouse alarm, 

0 

For no storm can do harm, 

If blows and squalls do never rise inside.” 

“Our wedded life has been 
An often-varied scene 
Of pleasure, or one sweet, continual song. 

God, may it ever glide 
Down life’s swift swollen tide 
As smoothly as we now do float along.” 

“Storms we will meet and brave 
When they around us rave, 

And when the sun bursts through the clouds in glory 
We ’ll smile as nature smiles 
When clouds in massive piles 
Bear the fair rainbow as on mountains hoary.” 


MARRIED LIFE . 


2 33 


As we stepped from the boat, 

Far down the road we note 
A buggy coming swift as any snail. 

“Let’s hide aud hear what they 
Can ever find to say,” 

Says she. She knows I’ll join her without fail. 

I sit down cozily 
Within the shade, and she 
Sits down upon my knee, and thus we wait. 
“Who can it be, my sweet, 

That drives a team so fleet ? 

And tries the snail to beat at such a rate ? ” 


“I don’t know, but I feel” — 

Just then a merry peal 
Of laughter broke the seal of quietness ; 
“ Jim Woods and Eve St. Clair I 
Those folks are, I declare. 

They often drive together out, I guess.” 


“Sweet Eve,” the youth explains, 

“You better take the reins.” 

She says, “The whip might snap and let them fall.” 
“I cannot hold them, pet, 

For then I ’d have to let 
You hold yourself — I won’t do that at all. 


“You darling ! to say yes 
When I a kiss did press 
Upon these lovely lips awhile ago I” 
“I never did say yes, 

I kissed you kiss for kiss, 

And you took it for granted I said so.” 


234 


MARRIED LIFE. 


“This sweet, romantic ride. 

My dainty little bride” — 

“I ’m not your bride !” “Oh, well, you soon will 
I wish we had n’t done it, 

As we could have the fun it 
Was to embrace and kiss so blissfully.” 

“Oh, well, just do it over,” 

I cry; “You are in clover, 

And need n’t pine for pleasures that are passed. 
Kiss her again, dear mister, 

Kiss her as first you kissed her ; 

The first was blissful, so will be the last ” 

The horse shied off and snorted, 

The startled lovers started, 

Caught up the whip and reins and drove away. 

“I do n’t care — she ’s my bride,” 

Cried Jim ; his darling cried, 

‘ ‘ Do n’t tell it on us, neighbors — do n’t, I pray ! 


“What ever made you do it ? 

They did n’t near get through it.” 

“Oh, yes, they had, dear, they ’d already done it, 
And they were talking over 
In deep unfathomed clover 
And perfect bliss because they had begun it.” 

“Well, darling, I don’t care; 

You ’d have to be a bear, 

If Sentiment herself you shocked thereby. 

I will not try to tame you, 

But I will simply name you 
My dear old darling, bearish love: may I?” 


• MARRIED LIFE. 


2 35 


And then I, just to tease her, 

Begin to tightly squeeze her, 

And while she struggles to get loose I cry: 
“A bear, the bad, old bugger ! 

Is a most desperate hugger; 

And if I am a bear, why, so am I.” 


“You always get around me.” 

She says, “and Jove confound me 
If I do n’t simply let you have your way.” 
“Of course I get around you, 

But ere Jove does confound you, 

Do tell me of a better way, I pray.” 


When on the lawn again, 

She says: “ Just you remain 
A minute here, and I ’ll pluck you a posy.” 
She, walking ’mong the bowers, 

Is lovely as the flowers, 

So sweet she is, so beautiful, so rosy. 


She promised to bring me 
A posy, but when she 
Keturns to me I see she has n’t brought it. 
“But, where is my bouquet?” 

“Oh ! well ! I blush to say, 

I hurried back so soon I just forgot it.” 


And then she tries to pout — 

For she believes, no doubt, 

I will have more to say about the flowers; 
But tenderly I ’ve placed 
My arm around her waist, 

And we are entering this home of ours. 


23 6 


MARRIED LIFE. 


Into her dressing-room 
She goes, and in its gloom 
And in its sweet perfume disrobes, and dresses 
Herself in snowy gown, 

Whose flowing folds reach down 
Near to the carpet she in walking presses. 


Soft, rich and creamy white 
It is. The pale moonlight 
That shimmers on its lacey folds discloses 
Limbs lovely, statuesque; 

Form fair and sculpturesque. 

Her face is lily fair, her cheeks like roses, 


As through the moony glare 
She tripping comes to where 
Upon a soft, low sofa I recline. 

Upon her lips I press 
A kiss, and I caress 

Her lovely form, and she is mine — all mine. 

Love’s luxury we taste, 

As mutually embraced 
We clasp each other and each other press. 
Joy steeps us in sweet bliss 
As I my darling kiss 

And her sweet, blissful, lovely form caress. 


“You take me up and carry me,” 

She says; and like a fairy she 
Appears, as in my arms I lift and take her 
Where through the window there 
The moon’s rich, mellow glare 
Falls on her — fair as beauty’s brush could make her. 


MARRIED LIFE. 


2 37 


I let her tresses down, 

And o’er her lacey gown 
They fall around her shoulders to her waist; 
No being so divine 
As this sweet wife of mine 
Was ever with such charms and beauty graced. 

Upon the pillows, spread 
’Round shoulders, waist and head, 

Iler hair like wavy shadows pours around. 

My arm is round her waist, 

Her arm is round me placed; 

And soon she rests in dreamy sleep profound. 

Childhood ’s a happy time; 

Girlhood a time sublime 
In innocence and dreams in Fancy’s hall; 

But wooing-time is sweeter, 

And wedding day completer — 

Yet womanhood ’s the sweetest time of all. 

Childhood ’s a time of play; 

Boyhood an era gay 

With dreams of future in Ambition’s hall; 

But life dawns when he loves, 

And wedding ever proves 
The door to manhood — grandest time of all. 






































































Romancie , 


A ROMANCE, 

Is one of the plays written especially for produc- 
tion in the floating edifice, Queen Isabella’s The- 
atre, at Chicago, during the Columbian World’s 
Fair of 1893. Queen Isabella’s Theatre is to be 
built in 1892-3, at a cost of two million four hun- 
dred thousand dollars. In its departments will 
be comprised a Grand Hotel, a mammoth Am- 
phitheatre, an Arena, a Natatorium, a vast Hall 
of Games, Saloons, Cafes, Vendors’ Stalls, a 
Plaza, and Dome Observatories. Full description 
of the structure, together with information con- 
cerning prices of suite and day-franchise tick- 
ets, can be obtained upon application to 

WM. B. FELTS, 


Russell Springs, Kas. 












* 












































































































































































































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



0 017 413 806 0 



